


More

by Sarah Problem (SarahProblem)



Series: Come With Me [13]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, Frottage, M/M, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 45,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13736811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahProblem/pseuds/Sarah%20Problem
Summary: Nebulas are very dangerous places. While helping a new Federation member species place sensors on the border between them and the unknown, the Enterprise receives a Federation Distress call from inside a nebula. What's even worse is that it's just inside the Klingon and Federation Neutral Zone. Is this going to be their own Kobayashi Maru?





	1. One

 More

 By Sarah Problem

 

 

 

 

The world drifted to him slowly. Jim Kirk was utterly relaxed and the sense of warmth, softness and being cocooned in clean sheets told him he was safe in their cabin. Whatever had awakened him wasn’t an emergency. It felt, in the strange way it did on a ship that had no sun to set or rise, as if it was still early morning. The white-noise he was used to hearing as he fell asleep had turned to the soft, gentle sound of rain.

Jim turned toward Bones, who was lying on his side and turned away. Bones was a back sleeper.

_He’s awake. Another nightmare._

Bones had had a few in the last few weeks. Jim suspected they were nightmares about him, even though it had been about a month since he'd been hurt on Kalon III. Bones wouldn’t always discuss them afterward. He would go to the living area and lie awake on the couch, in the dark, so he wouldn’t bother Jim. But Jim didn’t want Bones going off by himself. They’d talked about it, so now Bones would stay with Jim and turn on the rainstorm loop. He found it soothing and said it helped his mind to process what he'd dreamt.

Jim could see Bones's outline in the dark. Pushing the sheets down, Jim moved closer and slowly reached out. He touched Bones's bare back lightly with the tips of his fingers. Bones twitched, but didn’t move. Jim could feel the tension in his spine. The readiness and need to move that came with the aftermath of bad dreams.

Jim traced a slow, warm line down Bones's spine from the nape of his neck down to the beginning swell of his buttocks. Then he started at the top again, replacing his fingertips with the wide palm of his hand. The smooth skin under Jim's hand grew even warmer as Bones took a large breath and sighed. After a few seconds passed, Jim splayed his hand on Bones's side, over his ribs, feeling his ragged breathing.

Asking, with touch, if he was okay.

Bones suddenly relaxed with a sigh and rolled onto his back. He reached out an arm to pull Jim close. Jim moved to curl up against him and slid his hand from Bones's chest and down to his sternum, then stomach. He stopped at that space between Bones's navel and his pubic line and scratched the skin lightly.

Silently asking him if he wanted _more_.

Bones took Jim’s hand in his own and lifted it, rolling over so that he pushed Jim onto his back while making himself the one who covered and nestled. He pulled the now bunched sheets aside so that they slid off and onto the floor. Bones's leg hooked over Jim’s and pulled it closer, spreading Jim’s legs open and exposing his crotch to the flow of warm, vented air. Leaning over him, Bones pressed Jim’s wrist down into the mattress, in a silent order to leave it there. To leave both hands on the bed.

With the sound of rain covering their movements, Jim relaxed even further into the darkness. Bones's hot hand found his chest and touched him. Jim sighed in pleasure as Bones mapped out his torso. Long, dexterous fingers touching, caressing and massaging the muscles on Jim’s chest. They rubbed at his nipples, exciting nerves that had never reacted this strongly for anyone else. Bones played with them, pinching and pulling in a combination that was almost too much, but never enough. His hands moved slowly down Jim’s body, massaging and rubbing places that shouldn’t be so sensitive.

Jim’s cock hardened quickly during Bones's exploration. In a paradox of feelings, Jim relaxed under the loving ministrations while growing tense and excited with desire. Whatever his love wanted from him, he could have. Gladly. Whatever he wanted to give, Jim would greedily take.

Bones's cock grew hard against his hip. It was warm and heavy and slowly grew hot and straight against him. Bones was feverish, as Jim’s own lust made his body flush and his breathing deepen. Bones's mouth found those sensitive places on Jim’s neck and sucked them in to play with the nerves between teeth and tongue.

Jim smiled as his own blood grew molten. Whatever had made him think that familiarity would produce boredom or disinterest? Because even after eight months of marriage and the year together before that, each time they loved each other it was better than the last. It was the love, knowledge, experience, and trust between them that mattered. All making it more than just sex, more than merely scratching a momentary itch. It was being pleasured by someone who knew him inside and out and loved him anyway. In spite of. Because of.

Never really the same experience, no matter how many times they did this.

Bones's hand found his cock, now fully erect. Those long fingers circled his shaft gently at first, then made sudden swipes over his glans and frenulum. Jim gasped at the unexpected flash of electric pleasure while frustrated at the randomness of them. The promise of delicious friction keeping Jim on edge while he waited for another unseen stroke in the dark.

Bones pulled away for a minute and Jim found himself making whining noises at the loss of touch and heat of Bones's body. Bones chuckled with evil amusement as he fumbled in his nightstand drawer, reaching for the lube they both kept close at hand.

Then Bones was back, pushing Jim’s legs back together as he straddled his hips. Jim grabbed Bones's thighs, loving the feel of his weight, of heavy muscle and the masculine feel of hair down Bones's legs. He could hear Bones open the lube and rub some in his hands. Then Bones's hot, slick hands was on Jim’s cock, coating him in lube. Making Jim want to thrust into his hands.

After a moment, Bones leaned down and lay on top of Jim, trapping their erections between them. Propped up on forearms, his mouth found Jim’s. Bones rubbed himself in the tight space between them, kissing Jim deeply. The sharp contrast of hard erections, tender testicles and soft ball sacks making each thrust a different combination of pressure, textures and friction that threatened to drown Jim in the roar and flow of the need that was taking him over.

Jim moaned into Bones's mouth, reaching out to splay his hands-on Bones's ribs and pull him closer, encouraging Bones's weight on him. Urging the friction between them to something demanding and primal. Jim arched his back and flexed his ass, adding to the rub of their two bodies. He jolted when his erection rubbed against the thick heat of Bones’. They chewed on each other’s tongues, nibbled lips and shared moaning gasps as their frottage drew them both closer and closer to climax. They were soon bucking against each other, cocks both straining for that one perfect experience, that one extra-ordinary bit of friction, to finish them off.

One hard, perfect grind from Bones shocked Jim into climax. Jim’s body froze and his mind overloaded. Pinpoints of stars exploded in pulses in the darkness behind his closed eyes, matching the frantic beat of his heart. Jim clenched and ejaculated, relaxed for a split second, to clench and ejaculate again in a rolling wave.

Above him, Bones moaned, feeling Jim’s reaction. He moved up a bit, changing the angle of his thrusts. Jim, gasping, felt Bones's cock sliding in his cum and in another second Bones's body tightened and locked into place as he pushed in once more and froze. Jim could feel a new heat as Bones climaxed and added his body-hot cum to Jim’s.

Jim’s pleasure tremors made his arms shake as he pulled Bones's weight completely down on him. Bones's racing heartbeat against his own. His hot breath rasping next to Jim's now sensitive ear.

They held each other. Jim wasn’t sure for how long. Their hearts slowed, and their tenseness turned to relaxation so deep Jim thought he'd actually fall asleep and wake with Bones still on him. Bones nuzzled Jim’s temple gently with his nose before placing a tender kiss on the new skin near Jim’s white stripe. Jim's hair, grown much longer than a few week’s worth once Bones finally allowed him the use of a hair booster, had just gotten its first trim. Jim looked normal now, except for the white stripe that made Bones roll his eyes and shake his head when Jim checked himself in the mirror. Bones blew an amused breath into his hair and gently took some of those white hairs between his teeth and tugged a bit, knowing exactly where they were, even in the dark. He moved on to nibble at the reconstructed ear that Jim found he unconsciously touched on and off during the day. Tests hadn't shown why, but Jim swore it was more sensitive than the other. Jim groaned happily as Bones licked at it and sucked the new earlobe into his mouth.

Bones chuckled drowsily and rolled over and off. Jim turned to reach for the hand towels he kept in his drawer and wiped himself off. He could hear Bones open his drawer and do the same. Both towels were tossed away from the bed and when Bones lay back down Jim was ready to pull up the sheets. Jim then draped himself over Bones and they settled under them. Bones took a deep breath and melted back onto the bed. Even without seeing him, Jim could feel Bones was on the thin edge of sleep. He rubbed his nose in that spot on Bones's neck that smelled like love, life and safety and followed Bones. Hopefully into happier dreams.

 

***

 

**_Captain's Log, 2261.322, Captain James T. Kirk, Enterprise_ **

_For the past few weeks, the Enterprise has been assigned to help the Symmetrillion people of Abulon III with their border patrol of the nearby Treacher nebula. Because this narrow arm of the nebula separates the Federation from the Klingon Empire, and goes across the neutral zone, all spacecraft going to or coming from it are suspect. Over much of their history, not only have the Symmetrillions had attacks on their ships and some of their outer colonies, but many of their own exploratory ships have gone missing as well. Now that the Symmetrillions have petitioned to be part of the Federation, it is clearly in all our best interests to curb any piracy or smuggling between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. Our mission has been to help the Symmetrillions to set up a regular patrol border and seed the edges of the nebula with sensors and tracking devices. This will give them, and the Federation, warning of any movement from the nebula into this space and hopefully make the nearby space lanes a bit safer._

_So far, it has been a quiet month, with the Symmetrillions being very cooperative and willing to learn and take advice. The seeding of the sensors has gone well. Spock has informed me that we should be placing the last of the sensors in three days, ship time. Our new assignment from Starfleet should be arriving soon. It would be nice to make a port call, but I'm not getting anyone's hopes up._

_On a happier note, I'll be giving the December 1st Holiday Address late next week. We're all gearing up for the regular holiday celebrations and tournament games for the crew. It's been quiet enough that most of the crew has started early on decorating the Rec Room. Looks like another festive season for us all, if work doesn't get in the way._

_I'm hoping it'll stay peaceful._

_End Captain's Log_

**_Captain's Personal Log, same stardate_ **

_On a personal note, it's been about a month since the Kalon III assignment, which killed two of my crewmen. Their bodies have been transported to other ships for the return to their homeworlds. Condolence letters written, and Bereavement Packets sent to their families. I don't think I'll ever get used to doing that. The memorial services went well. Many crewmen wrote their own letters remembering the fallen two for the Packets. I can only hope it gives their families some peace and closure, to know that they had many friends on the ship. As for Kalon III, the Federation's long-term study team is now in orbit around the planet. Maybe someday we'll find out just how the life on that planet was trying to communicate. I'd like to think they meant well and it was only our differing biology that caused the deaths and my injuries. First Contact can be dangerous for everyone involved._

_As for myself, the new muscle and skin Bones, M'Benga and the Biological Sciences team worked hard to replace has taken well. The exercises I've been doing have evened up my muscle tone in the damaged areas and I look and feel normal now, with a return to a complete range of motion. A careful UV tan has helped even out the old skin with the new. And I was able to get Bones to use some of that hair accelerant once he was sure everything was as healed as it was going to get. Bones is still rolling his eyes over the stripe, but I think it was a good idea to keep it. I've been told, by one of the nurses, that most of the crew think it's kind of cool. We're a long way from home and have to entertain ourselves with the small things. And on my end, Bones's reaction to it has been pretty entertaining._

_I'm glad to be back to normal and back to work these last few weeks. Even if this assignment has been a little dull._

_And to make this all a bit extra special, it'll soon be one year since Bones proposed. I can hardly believe it. So far, married life has been everything I'd hoped it'd be and more. I can hardly see how he could ever top that surprise. And he doesn't have to, which is the best thing about it. I have everything I want, right here and right now._

_I plan to enjoy it thoroughly, however long it lasts._

_End Personal Log_

Jim sat back in his Ready Room chair and checked for any new orders from Starfleet. Nothing yet. He checked the time and punched the comm.

"Kirk to McCoy."

"McCoy here."

"Busy?"

"Always, but not with anything important. Why? Oh, it's almost end of shift."

"Yeah, wondering where you wanted to eat tonight?"

"Gee," Bones replied sarcastically, "list all the endless choices for me. I never know where to pick."

Before Jim could answer, Uhura's signal came over the comm. "Hang on, Bones." He switched to Uhura. "Kirk here."

"Captain, we have an incoming message from the Captain of the _Amara_. He says that the new border sensors they just put into place have detected a distress signal. A _Federation_ distress signal."

"Mr. Spock is in the Science Center, have him come to the bridge and transfer any information from the _Amara_ to his station. I'm on my way in."

Jim switched back to Bones. "Bones? We may have something. Report to the bridge."

Jim didn't wait for a response. In a moment, he was on the bridge and taking his chair. "Mr. Sulu? Take us over to the _Amara_. Mr. Chekov, start re-mapping the Nebula around the Amara, in case we have to nose our way into it to save someone."

Both men responded with "Aye, Captain" and set to work.

Spock and Bones arrived on the bridge at the same time.

Jim nodded toward Uhura, who repeated her message.

"More refugees?" Bones asked with concern. "Are we talking about a lot of beings? Like the Yaderans we rescued last year?"

"Not sure yet. We'll see," Jim said softly. "Most of the nebula is in the neutral zone, between us and the Klingons. We know some of the pirates use it to escape capture and some traders like to use it to sneak across the borders. Just because it's a Federation Neutral Zone doesn't mean the non-members avoid it. Start getting everyone ready for a rescue. You can use the Ready Room."

Bones nodded and left to give his team the 'heads up'.

"Captain," Spock said, fingers moving quickly over his station's controls. "The _Amara_ reports the signal from the new sensor is very weak and incomplete. There is enough interference to make the signal suspect, and the sensor itself may be faulty."

"How long until we get to the _Amara_?" Jim asked.

"It is at the far edge of Symmetrillion space. About two hours from our current position."

"Uhura? Let them know we're on our way. When we arrive, see if we can bump up the signal on the sensor. Until then, try to catch it yourself from here, with the Enterprise's equipment. Maybe one source will catch what the other doesn't. Everyone!" Jim announced to the rest of the bridge, "let's prepare for a rescue mission. Take this time to make sure we're ready to react fast if we need to."

A chorus of "Aye, Captain" filled the bridge.

Two hours later, Uhura turned from her board. "In range, Captain. The Captain of the _Amara_ has hailed us. I'm afraid I still haven't been able to catch the signal on the Enterprise's systems."

"Keep trying," Jim said. "Put the Captain on."

The screen came up, showing the Captain of the _Amara_. The green, wet skin of the Symmetrillion Captain was hard to see through the heavy mist of the ship’s interior. As a species, they were even more water-dependent than humans and internally their ships were hot, humid and very, very damp. Neon blue eyes with vertical slits blinked twice at him in greeting. There were about fifty of the Symmetrillion ships, all vastly smaller patrol vessels, that had been involved in the project. Jim had not had a chance to speak to all of them and the Captain of the _Amara_ was one he'd not talked to in person.

"Thank you for coming, Captain Kirk, of the Enterprise." The ship’s translator made the Captain’s voice sound thick and bubbly. "I’m Captain Sllyrth, of the _Amara_."

"Captain," Jim said with a nod. "You said in your message that you had received a distress call from inside the Treacher nebula's boundaries?"

"Yes. We believe so. But we cannot respond," Captain Sllyrth’s long, snake-like neck, still mostly hidden in the mist, undulated in what Jim knew was a shrug. "All know well that our ships are not built to enter the nebula. We are for patrol and defense only. Since we believe the signal is a Federation Distress call, we can do no more than turn the problem over to you."

"We appreciate your reporting it to us," Jim said. "Please send over any new information you have about the signal and standby in case we need some help."

"Agreed," Captain Sllyrth said with a bubbly hiss. "We will send over all we have. Standing by."

As the communication cut off, Jim turned to Uhura. "Connect directly with that sensor and see what you can do with it. Tell Chekov what you need if any of our specialized equipment can help."

Uhura nodded, already concentrating on her board.

Bones leaned down to whisper to Jim. "He seems relieved to let you take over."

"I would be too," Jim admitted. "They don't want to be seen ignoring Federation Distress calls, but they're too small to go in there. They don't have the defenses to keep from getting crushed."

"And we're too big," Bones said with a sigh. "I think we learned that last year. Do you think that this has anything to do with the Yeaderans?"

_It has been a year. So much has happened. Where does the time go?_

"Parsecs away, Bones," Jim said, glancing at Bones with a small smile. "Different nebula, not connected to this one. But you still wonder what happened to them."

Bones sighed. "Yeah, I do."

"Captain?" Uhura called. "I've finally got a fix on it. By mixing the Enterprise's version and the sensor's version, I think we've got a complete signal."

"Play it."

Jim listened to a few seconds of static, then, very faintly, he heard the coded beacon of a distress signal.

"Spock?"

"It does read as Federation," Spock said, eyes on his hooded screen. "One in use for civilian craft for the last fifteen years. There is no metadata attached with the signal, which is unusual for such a call."

"So, we can't tell who's calling for help?" Bones asked worriedly.

"Correct, Doctor."

"There should be _some_ information," Jim added, scowling. "Make, model of ship. Number of crew. Ship name. Homeport or registry. It's odd that that wouldn't automatically be programmed into any ship with the ability to broadcast it."

"Unless there would be some reason they wouldn't want to be identified." Spock turned giving Jim a serious look. "Or someone who wants us to be curious enough to come into the nebula."

"Klingons, you mean," Bones added gruffly. "They're just on the other side of this minefield. Maybe they've been digging tunnels through that mess and attacking people."

"Anything's possible," Jim admitted. "Klingon's, pirates, or even just a civilian transport that decided to take a shortcut. Anyone can mimic the signal. Distress signals wouldn't be of much use if they were kept secret."

Jim leaned forward in his chair. "Sulu? See how far you can get us in there, without overloading the defense screens. Chekov? Put up all the screens and let us know when the screens are at 60 percent capacity. Spock, put all the sensors we have up on full. Let's see if we can figure out who begging for our attention.

Carefully, the Enterprise nudged forward. The edges of the nebula were mostly gases that soon melded into dust and small rocks that had been ground off from colliding asteroids. The Enterprise was able to move forward, although very slowly, for almost an hour before Chekov gave the warning. In front of them the view was clearer, but only showed them the river-like movements of thousands and thousands of asteroids of all sizes and shapes moving as gravity and solar winds directed them.

"The signal is clearer, Captain," Uhura volunteered. "They may be able to receive a reply."

"Try to contact them," Jim ordered.

"We can get a basic direction for the source of the broadcast," Spock added. "The source seems to be one parsec in."

Jim studied the readouts Spock sent to the main vid-screen. "That's just inside the official neutral zone."

"Kobayashi Maru?" Bones asked worriedly.

"Always a possibility," Jim muttered. "Sulu? What do you think of the new shield design on _The Scout_. Can she get us through that?"

Sulu leaned forward, elbows on his console, staring at the overlaid map on the view screen of the flow of asteroids. Jim let him study the data.

"They’re supposed to be able to handle some big debris," Sulu admitted. "They’re a new design, less blunt and rigid than the ship’s regular shields. Supposed to push the material aside, have it slide off, rather than have it react like it’s hit something solid."

"More like being in the center of a bubble, than a walnut shell," Jim said.

Sulu nodded. "It also means it’d be like driving one of those ancient bumper-cars. _The Scout_ itself would get bumped around." Sulu looked at Jim with a smile. "I wouldn’t mind testing it out, Captain."

"Me either," Jim admitted, "Get her ready, Sulu. Chekov, back us out of here so we can give _The Scout_ some room and test her responses out before we get into the thick of things. Then we'll to take her in as far as we can and see who needs our help."

 

***

 

Doctor Leonard McCoy closed his eyes, trying not to see the asteroids that swept crazily across the viewscreen at the front of _The Scout_. The crazy movement told his brain that they were hurdling the wrong way through asteroid traffic, while twisting, turning and shimmying sideways at hellacious speed. Apparently, the newfangled screens made him feel like he was in the middle of a washing machine, even if the onboard gravity and inertial dampeners told him otherwise.

_Just what I need. To get space sick now. But hell, if this just doesn’t feel like one of those crazy rides Jim loves to go on. That’s why he’s got the co-pilot’s seat. If it wasn’t Sulu flying, it’d be him._

And it didn't help that the six of them felt like a crowd in the small ship. While it was filled with equipment, there hadn't been enough seats in front of the consoles. So, Jim had ordered everyone not actively working to stay belted in at the back-bench seats. Which meant half of them had to sit in the narrow entry area unless they had to be working at a station.

_Damned stupid design. At least I don't have to get up and down out of my seat. Yet. I was afraid Jim was going to make me stay on the ship. But how can we know how bad their situation really is if Medical can't get a look? Someone has to be able to do triage. I don't want to endanger our people if there's no one left to save._

Taking a chance, he opened one eye and glanced at the viewscreen. His stomached rolled at the sight.

"You are fine, Doktor?" Chekov asked politely from the seat next to McCoy.

"He’s okay," Uhura said, safely buckled in her seat across the narrow aisle. Their knees almost touched. "He just doesn’t like the visual turbulence."

"But…" Chekov said hesitantly. McCoy opened one eye to look at him. Chekov looked confused. "But ve can feel nothing because—"

"We're _moving_ , I can _see_ it," McCoy said with a gulp of air. "Just because we can’t feel it, doesn’t mean we're not."

"Ah," Chekov said with a knowing nod of his head. "My mother is the same vay. You haf' to believe that you are sitting still and that the viewport is really a holoscreen. You are _not_ the one moving. That way—"

"Yeah, thanks," McCoy said, cutting the kid short and keeping his eyes closed. "Been there, tried that. I’ll just pretend I'm on the Enterprise, thanks."

"We are coming up on the source of the signal," Spock said from his console to the left of Sulu's seat. Spock had been working to keep _The Scout_ headed in the signal's general direction once Uhura had been able to get a fix on it. She had listened for signals that hinted that anyone lay in wait for them, but found none. She had given up the console to Spock, just minutes ago.

"Chekov," Jim called from the co-pilot's seat. "Get ready to scan the ship and get every bit of information you can as fast as possible. If this is a trap, I don't want to be sitting and collecting data. I want to know who, what and how the hell we can help them as we pass by. If she's small enough, can we tow her or any of their escape modules back to the Enterprise?"

"Aye, Captain." Chekov moved to stand beside one of the stations that had no chair. McCoy watched as the young man's fingers were a blur of activity across the boards.

"We should be in visual range..." Spock announced. "In three... two... one..."

_The Scout_ circled a large asteroid and as they came to the other side McCoy could see a ship. He couldn't tell how big it was compared to the asteroids and debris around them. To him, it looked something like John Grimm's _Dragon_ , where a small crew could live for fairly long voyages. It looked all beaten to hell and was bleeding fluids and bits of metal from a hit.

"Passing underneath!" Sulu said tightly, turning _The Scout_ sideways to avoid something solid heading their way as they passed underneath the ship.

"Five-person, civilian class, Traveler model!" Chekov announced. "Unknown modifications. Unusual readings."

"The ship may be armed," Spock announced. "The unusual readings could be photon torpedoes."

"Sulu. Give us a second pass," Jim ordered, busy helping Sulu keep _The Scout_ from being hit by the rotating and colliding rocks around them while he picked out a spot they could turn around in. "Bones! Any life signs? Chekov? Can we tow?"

Spock quickly vacated his seat and McCoy dropped into it, changing the readings to scan for life. He fought to get readings as quickly as possible. The second pass of the ship may be the last chance they had.

"Ve can tow, but it vill affect our ability to maneuver," Chekov replied grimly. "Our shield cannot cover it and tow at the same time. The ship may fall apart."

McCoy turned to Jim. "One life sign. They've got their shields up, so we can't transport."

"Shit! Sulu? Can we tow it out of here and stay alive ourselves?"

"Willing to give it a try," Sulu said tightly, his attention still on _The Scout_ and its movements through the ocean of rocks.

"Bones? Where are they?"

"Cockpit."

"Chekov," Jim said. "Latch the tractor beam on the cockpit. Hope they're sealed in or suited. Let the rest of the ship fall apart behind it if can't hold together. Uhura. Find our homing signal and listen for anyone coming after us."

McCoy shot out of the seat and let Uhura have it. He belted back in on the back seat across from Spock.

The next few minutes McCoy spent watching and listening as Uhura found their return beacon and helped Sulu and Jim keep track of it. There were a few tense minutes when _The Scout_ had to slow and latched on to the ship, then start towing the wreck. Then, as both ships started moving again, everyone got quiet.

McCoy had just closed his eyes again when Sulu swore.

"The orbits are changing!" Sulu spat, wrestling with his controls as a large rock, almost half their size, hit their shields and bounced them aside.

"Something ees coming toward us!" Chekov yelled. "Pushing everything out of its vay! It's moving fast!"

"Ships?" Jim asked grimly.

"There's nothing there!" Chekov sounded confused. "The asteroids are reacting, but nothing ees there!"

Spock came up behind Chekov and they both practically pounded the touch screens around them. "It's moving straight toward us. Too fast to read. Three seconds to impact!" Spock yelled.

"Drop the beam!" Jim yelled as he worked frantically at his own controls, second only to Sulu's frantic movements as they tried to move _The Scout_ around the wildly ricocheting rocks. "Get us out!"

But they didn't have time. McCoy barely had time to take a breath before whatever it was hit them.

 

***

 

Even before he was completely awake, Jim Kirk knew something was wrong.

First off, his waking was sudden. Jim was used to waking up suddenly, to a call, a chime or a yell that was meant to get his attention. Being a Captain of a Starship primed you to fall asleep quickly and wake just as fast. It was a downside to his job that he knew he shared with his husband and, he suspected, with most of his crew. But this kind of waking didn't feel like the type that came from sleep. It felt like the kind that came from unconsciousness. From nothing to something with a hard, sudden and sharp line between the two.

The second was that when he did sleep, he rarely slept outside. He was on his side, his head pillowed on his right arm and there was some kind of mat under him and a heavy covering over him. A breeze blew, ruffling his hair and beard and a rustling that sounded like tree leaves all around him. Some birds were singing in the distance. They reminded him of his mornings on Deneva.

So, he held still, afraid to make the wrong move and set something into motion that he wasn't prepared for.

_When did we make planetfall? Were we doing some sort of survey on the natives? Why is everything a blank?_

He opened one eye slightly, trying to see through his lashes without alerting anyone who might be watching. In front of him was the trunk of a large tree. A _very_ large tree.

He sat up slowly, feeling woozy and pushed off the covering that turned out to be a dark brown leather cloak. He was wearing some soft leather boots up to his mid-calf, some tightly woven dark green hose, and a long, over-sized white shirt with puffy sleeves. It reminded him of the shirt he'd gotten married in. Over it was a green vest and a brown leather belt at his waist. The buckle looked like copper. Moving to sit up led him to think he had on some type of underwear. And his wedding ring was missing.

Looking around he saw he was in a campsite, under a very large tree with huge limbs. A few yards away, down by his feet, was a stone-ringed fire pit. Around it, several people looked to be sleeping on similar mats and they were beginning to stir. Next to each person was a collection of items, as if everyone had put aside their personal things before going to sleep.

From his left, came aggravated mutterings, echoing his thoughts.

"What the hell? What's going on?" Bones's voice sounded loud in the quiet area, although he was speaking softly.

Glancing over, Jim watched in surprise as Bones sat up. Dressed all in black, a large, black cape or coat of some kind that he'd been using as a blanket fell away. He had apparently been asleep on a mat next to Jim. Bones's black shirt was more closely fitted than Jim's and he had on actual pants rather than hose. Even his boots were black, as was his belt. What got Jim's attention was his hair. Instead of being cropped short and spiky, Bones's hair now hung around his face in long strands that fell halfway down his shoulders. The loose wave of it, which Jim had always suspected was there, framed Bones's face. He had a few strands of grey at both temples, ones that Jim hadn't seen grow in yet. The breeze lifted a few locks into Bones's eyes and he brushed them back with a scowl. Jim noticed his wedding ring was missing as well.

_In that outfit, with that hair and stubble, he looks like some sort of old-fashioned bad guy._ Jim tugged at the hair on his own chin, which immediately told him it was attached and his. Further exploration of his face told him it was a Van Dyke, not a full beard, but short and neatly trimmed.

Bones looked around in confusion, one dark eyebrow raising as he looked Jim over. "What the _hell_ is on your face? And what am I wearing? _Where_ did all this hair come from?" Bones tugged at his locks gently and ran his fingers through it. "It's real. When did this happen?"

"I was hoping you knew," Jim admitted.

"Well, that _can't_ be good," Bones muttered as he looked around them.

He, Bones and four others were apparently at some sort of rustic campsite. Around them was a clearing under a huge tree in the middle of a large wooded area. Thick brush enclosed their campsite. If they'd been on Earth, Jim would have called it a prime, professionally maintained camping spot for those who didn't have the time or energy to find someplace wilder. He couldn't be sure, but it looked to be late afternoon.

Behind him was a large wooden wagon with ancient, wooden wheels. Off to the side, tethered to a rope tied between two trees, was an unsaddled brown horse who only seemed interested in nibbling the grass at its feet.

The other's started stirring. He saw Chekov, Sulu, Spock and... Uhura? Jim felt his eyebrows raise to his hairline when Uhura sat up. Her long hair was gone, and the new style was close cut and spikey. She wore a gray woolen tunic with a cowl and some sort of wide corset or bustier over the tunic that hugged her torso. The tunic came down to mid-thigh on her, covering most of her brown pants. Her boots were a soft, dark brown.

Beside her, Chekov had a head full of brown curls that came to his collar and was dressed like Jim, only in various colors. His hose had one white leg and one red. His tunic seemed to be sewn together from various bits of cloth and his sleeves were even puffier than Jim's.

Sulu not only had shoulder length hair, but had a Van Dyke beard as well, his mustache ending in a curl on either side. He was in boots, brown pants and a shirt like Jim's. But his tunic was Royal blue with an even-armed white cross on the center.

Spock's usually precise and neat haircut was gone. He now sported a head of shaggy hair down to his neck and a Van-Dyke mustache like Jim's, but not trimmed neatly. With his ears and eyebrows hidden, Spock looked completely human. He was also dressed like Jim in oversized shirt, hose and belted shirt, but in all muddy browns and greys.

_He looks so human,_ Jim thought with surprise. _I never wondered what he'd have looked like if he'd taken after his mother's side._

All looked confused as they examined themselves and their surroundings.

"Okay, everyone report in," Jim ordered as he stood up carefully, feeling a bit wobbly. " _Anyone_ know what's going on?"

"I have _no_ idea," Uhura said with annoyance as her fingers raked through her now-short locks, "but if this is some kind of joke, someone's going to _die_."

"You can have mine," Bones said with disgust as he tossed a handful of his own hair behind his head to keep it away from his face. It was clear it wasn't going to stay there.

"U' Kwon-haul-ova, du nam-tor vaksurik," Spock said gently to her. She gave him a grateful glance.

Pushing himself to his feet, Spock turned to Jim. "Captain. I have no memory of this place, nor of how we came to be here."

"Neither do I," Chekov said as he got up from his bedroll.

"Same here. No answers," Sulu added, pushing himself up to stand as well.

"Well, _hell_ ," Bones said with surprise, bending down to pick up something from the pile beside him. He held up what looked to be a mask made of black leather. It had a huge beak that jutted out like a bird's and large, round eye-holes covered by thin pieces of clear material. "I'm dressed like a plague doctor!" Bones said in disgust as he turned the mask around.

"A what?" Jim asked.

"I believe Doctor McCoy is correct," Spock said. "His accouterments do suggest a medical physician from ancient Earth history, from the era of the bubonic plague. The 'beak' of the mask was filled with herbs, flowers or other aromatic substances that would, theoretically, keep the attending physician from inhaling the 'miasma' that the cultures of that time believed caused the plague."

"A medieval hazmat suit," Bones said, holding the mask up to his face so he could look through the eyes, but not have it touch his face. "All tight-fitting black leather. Supposed to keep the bad air out, like Spock said. I guess it could have worked, in an odd way." Bones shrugged and tossed the mask down on the mat and picked up a black, wide-brimmed hat and black leather cowl. There was some sort of tall, black cane and a large black bag there as well. "It was really the infected fleas that passed around the plague. This may not only have kept off the fleas, but surely would keep the populace from getting up close and personal. He'd get a wide berth wherever he went."

"It does make you look a bit intimidating," Jim admitted.

Sulu had been examining his own blade and outfit. He turned to Jim with surprise. "Captain, I'm dress like one of the French Musketeers! They were the elite guards in the early 17th century France. They'd have used rapiers like the one I have, and the rest of the costume matches the King's Musketeers of that time."

"Yes!" Chekov said excitedly, "Captain, he ees correct. I also recognize the outfit now that he has mentioned it!"

"Okay, everyone gather your stuff and bring it here," Jim ordered. "Maybe we'll recognize something else."

They all went to work on the items left beside them, bringing them to Jim. Jim and Chekov had similar items, including a bow, arrows, large knives, triangle-shaped caps with feathers on the top. Chekov had some kind of stringed instrument that was bowl-shaped and brightly painted. Spock had neither bow nor arrows, but had a tall, thick wooden staff with a wooden bulb on the end. As a weapon, it certainly looked like it could do some serious damage. Sulu had a wicked looking rapier, an old flint-lock gun but no bullets or gunpowder. Uhura had a chain mail vest, along with a matching cowl and a wide belt that held a large sword with a cross engraved near the hilt.

They had generally the same supplies when it came to their bags, with the exception that some were leather and some woven fabric. All contained dried fruits, vegetables, meats and small loaves of very hard bread. There were some small knives more suited to eating than fighting. Each had a leather-like bag for water, already filled, and the mats. They all had capes with hoods.

Bones's bag had a bigger variety of items than anyone else's. It also contained dozens of small cloth packets, tied with string. After opening a few and sniffing, Bones reported that he thought they were packets of herbs, flowers and other bits of plants and minerals. There were also some sharp and weirdly shaped instruments in a box that looked more like torture devices to Jim than medical instruments. He also had some extra bits of folded cloth and a very small stoppered glass jar that held what Bones announced after a few minutes inspection as leeches.

"Leeches?" Jim asked looking at the small glass container and seeing what looked to him like small slugs. "Are you sure? Do I even want to know how you know this?"

"They were a doctor thing," Bones admitted with a wince. "And, no, you don't want to know."

"Keptain?" Chekov said as he bent to pick up the bow that had been next to Jim when he woke. "I think... I may haf an idea of who we are supposed to be."

He held up Jim's bow and pointed to some sort of design near the hand grip. "See, this? It looks like an English "R" and an "H". And the vay you are dressed leads me to believe you are to be the thief of legend and leader of the group, named ‘ _Robin Hood’_."

" _Robin Hood_?" Jim asked in surprise. The name rang a bell, from some sort of vids and stories he'd come across when young. "But, wasn't he an outlaw of some sort? Steal... and uh..."

"Steal from the rich and gif it to the poor. But!" Chekov held up a finger. "He was not an actual person, but a merging of various stories of the time. Most probably based on—"

"Oh, my God, Chekov. You're a secret _anglophile!_ " Bones accused, eyes wide with surprise. "Never would have seen _that_ coming."

"I am no such thing!" Chekov insisted with dignity. "It's just goot to keep an eye on the cultures around you, for ven they steal your ideas. And if the Captain is Robin Hood, then I would be Allen-A-Dale since I have the musical instrument. Allen-A-Dale was a minstrel and one of the Merry Men."

"The who?" Jim asked.

"The Merry Men. They were the group that Robin Hood led, to do the robbing. I would guess that Mr. Spock could well be the character of _'Little John'_. Robin's second in Command."

"I am not overly familiar with the tale," Spock admitted, "but I do not think that Dr. McCoy, Sulu, nor Uhura’s outfits would fit that folklore, nor that time frame."

"No," Chekov agreed, "Zat is true. But I think I also recognize Lieutenant Uhura’s character as well. Although she was a real person, I believe that Uhura is meant to be ' _Joan of Arc'_."

Spock’s eyebrows rose under the cover of his shaggy bangs. "I believe the history of Joan of Arc and the Robin Hood folklore are separated by countries and time."

"Didn't she die in battle?" Uhura asked, hefting her sword easily. "I'd rather be Joan of Arc than Maid Marian."

"Who's Maid Marian?" Jim asked, feeling confused.

"Robin Hood's girlfriend," Chekov answered. "I do not think Maid Marian fought very much."

"While what Chekov says may be true," Spock said, holding out his hand for Uhura's sword. She handed it to him. "Whomever has provided these weapons seems to have little understanding of their materials. This sword may appear to be steel, but it is certainly not as strong."

Jim held out his hand and Spock passed the sword to him. Spock was right, the material was much too light to actually be worked steel. It felt a bit brittle.

"And the staff I was supplied with," Spock continued, "is not as heavy as Terran wood."

"I don't think _any_ of these weapons are right," Sulu said, examining his rapier again, running a finger along the blade and a thumb over the tip. "For instance, this looks sharp, but there's no real edge."

"So, more like holo-vid props than actual defense?" Bones asked, looking as confused as Jim felt.

"Definitely. I'm not even sure these would hold up in a real battle," Sulu agreed.

"What about our bows and arrows?" Jim asked, picking his bow up. The string was taunt and made a vibrating sound when he pulled it and let go. It felt tight and sturdy.

"I don’t know anything about those," Sulu admitted.

Chekov shrugged.

"Let me test it out." Jim bent over to collect an arrow. "I'll aim at the tree trunk."

"Okay, everyone _behind_ him!" Bones ordered, waving his hand toward the wagon. "Better yet, behind the wagon, back out of the way."

Jim pushed up his sleeves and watched in consternation as the other five quickly put the wagon between them.

_Seriously? You'd have thought I was going to set off a grenade._

"It's _just_ a bow and arrow," Jim complained with a scowl. "I think I can safely hit a tree."

" _Sure_ , you can," Bones said condescendingly. "Just remember, all I can do for you is tie up wounds and make you some nasty tea. Don't make me pull out those leeches."

Jim held up the bow and nocked an arrow. He took a stance, pulled the bowstring back and sighted it dead center on the trunk.

_This can't be all that hard. The real question is will the arrow actually penetrate the trunk, or break into pieces?_

"Captain?" Spock's voice called from behind him. "I do not think your stance is--"

Jim released the arrow. A fraction of a second later he realized his mistake. It was hard not to, since the fierce, sudden fire-hot sting of the bow-string hitting his forearm made him jump in pain.

"Shit!" Jim yelled, both because of the sudden pain and the fact his arrow actually had missed the tree. He placed the bow on the ground and looked at his arm.

"What the _hell_ did you do?" Bones asked suddenly at Jim's side, grabbing his wrist. "We could hear that from back there!"

"The Captain's stance was wrong, as was the rotation of his forearm," Spock said casually. "The bowstring has struck him."

"Didn't they wear some kind of arm guard?" Uhura asked. "I mean, in real life?"

"Yeah. That would have been a good idea," Jim admitted as Bones examined the now raising welt.

"Well, that's going to bruise up nice," Bones said after giving it a close look, then letting Jim's arm go free. "I wouldn't do it again, though."

"Yeah, no shit," Jim agreed, gritting his teeth against the pain. "Since we didn't get any arm guards with the bows, we’ll have to be more careful," Jim said with a sigh. "Let’s see what’s in the wagon."

There was a thick, heavy tarp covering the contents of the wagon. There was a harness of some kind for the horse, some baskets of dried up apples and pears, one small basket of what looked like hen’s eggs and some mini barrels filled with flour, salt, sugar and a small one with what they assumed was supposed to be butter, but looked more like yellow clay. There were several different types and sizes of pots and pans. All looked new and unused.

"Well, we could always open a bakery," Bones said. "If anyone here knows how to bake with an open fire."

"Or, we can find some natives and use it for trade," Sulu volunteered.

"That’s an idea," Jim agreed, "but before we make any decisions, let’s scout out the area. I want to get the lay of the land. Someone put us in this spot for a reason and I want more information. So, let's get this camp organized. Who knows anything about horses?"

A moment passed as they all looked at each other.

"No one?"

Bones sighed and shrugged. "I've ridden some, but only the pre-saddled variety. Mostly, I can tell the head from the ass and know not to let them stomp on my foot or bite me."

"Then that's more than the rest of us," Jim said with a smile as he clapped Bones’s shoulder. "You’re the Doc, you can deal with the living things. Go and see if you can figure out how the harness works. Everyone else, bring your personal items and put them in the wagon. We’ll keep them off the ground ready to move fast if we need to. Then Spock, Uhura, Sulu and I will scout out the area. If there’s a wagon, there should be some sort of road nearby. Bones and Chekov stay here and watch the camp. See about finding some firewood in case we stay the night. Let’s get started."

Everyone acknowledged their orders and turned to their tasks. Jim felt for Bones, who they left standing in front of the horse, hands on hips as he glared at the animal. It seemed to have no interest in anything but grazing the grass at his feet.

He, Spock, Uhura and Sulu backtracked along the trail from their camp. The trail was narrow and hard to follow in some areas, but where they didn't see wheel marks they could find a hoof print or two that led them further back.

When they came upon the main road, it was wide and the dirt well packed. Still shaded by huge trees with large limbs that arched over the roadway, they could not see very far in either direction because of the turns in the road. There was no one on the road and no other sign of civilization.

"Captain," Spock said, confusion in his voice as he squatted and examined the road itself. "There are no tracks on this road. Even after some time, there should be some sign that this road is used. Also, there are no rocks, pock marks or vegetation growing upon it. Even a very heavily used road would have some overgrowth. And unless it never rains here, there should be old water ruts as any water would run downhill, across it.

"He's right, Captain," Uhura said, frowning as she looked up and down the road. "This road is too perfect. It's like it's been laid out by some sort of earth mover. I can't see anyone doing this by hand and having it stay so pristine."

"I agree," Jim said, hands on hips as he looked around. "Spock? You keeping track of all these anomalies?"

Spock glanced at him, with what Jim suspected was a raised eyebrow. He couldn't tell with all that hair. "Of course."

"Yeah, sorry. Should have known. Let's follow this down and see if we can see anything new."

They headed downhill. Through gaps in the trees where the warm sun lit the ground they got glimpses of rolling hills and more forest. There was no sign of intelligent life other than the road itself. And while there were birds singing, Jim didn't actually see any. It was a beautiful walk, but not very productive. After about thirty minutes, they headed back. Jim didn't want to worry those at the camp.

"Jim?" Bones called out when they came within sight of the camp and Chekov greeted them. "There's something you all need to see."

The five of them trotted up to Bones, who was now standing around a roaring campfire. There was a kettle over it, hanging from a tripod. Inside Jim could see some boiling water.

"What's up?" Jim asked.

"This," Bones said. He squatted down, tossed a handful of hair over his shoulder, then reached into the fire and picked up a thick, burning stick in his bare hand, the flames wrapping around his fist as he raised it.

"Bones!" Jim gasped, lurching forward to stop him. Bones pulled back.

"I'm fine," Bones said casually as he watched the stick burn. He held it out to Jim. "That's the problem."

Fascinated, Jim reached out to place his own hand over the stick. It looked red hot, wisps of smoke curling from it, flames crackling. But as Jim reached out, he felt what had Bones puzzled.

The stick was warm, but not unpleasantly so.

"There’s not enough heat," Jim said in surprise, holding up the stick to show Spock.

Eyebrow raised, Spock took the stick in both hands and rotated it. The stick continued to burn and the smoke always headed upward. "You are correct. There is warmth, but little else." Spock tossed the stick back into the fire and squatted down beside it. Everyone watched as he put his hand into the flames, then felt the rocks ringing the fire. "This is not fire as we know it, Captain. While it is converting the raw material into heat, it is not doing so productively. Not in the manner we are accustomed to."

"And it's not just that," Bones added. Jim looked up to see him taking the small knife he'd placed at his belt and saw off a lock of his own hair. Then drop the hairs into the fire. "The wood looks like it's burning, being consumed, but the hair isn't."

Jim squatted, watching as the long, thin strands of black hair lay in the fire. They didn't burn.

"We haf tried different materials," Chekov said with a confused shake of his head. "Only the vood seems to burn."

"Because only wood is supposed to burn?" Jim muttered, mostly to himself. "Spock? Are we in some sort of simulation?"

"That is a possibility, Captain," Spock admitted.

"But, could such a holographic projection cover such a large area?" Uhura asked. "We did walk pretty far."

"Unknown," Spock answered. "The first Enterprise, captained by Jonathan Archer, had a First Contact with a race called the Xyrillians, just over one-hundred and eleven years ago. They were technically advanced and were reported to have such technology."

"Don't think I've ever heard of them," Bones said.

"If memory serves, the contact was with a single ship. There was no information given as to the location of the homeworld and they have yet to make further contact since that encounter."

"Could this be their way of making contact with us again?" Sulu asked.

"Unknown, but not highly probable," Spock replied. "I see no reason not to directly approach us in one of their ships. They know more about us then we do about them. I doubt they would see us as a threat."

"Okay," Jim said, "then let's be on the lookout for more things that don’t work or look right. Then we can—"

"Robin!"

All of them turned toward the voice, which had come from the trail behind them. The bushes rustled and a young girl came into view, running toward them. She had brown eyes and a heart-shaped face and looked to be about ten or eleven years old. She was dressed in an overly large, ragged gray shirt, tied at the waist with a cord. The sleeves had been raggedly cut down to fit her. She had on brown pants and some sort of soft leather shoes. The tendrils of her shoulder-length brown hair were plastered against her forehead and she looked hot and sweaty enough to have run some distance.

_She looks human, and speaks Standard. Is she real, or part of some sort of scenario?_

She flapped her arms excitedly. "Lord Faramere’s carriage is coming down the hill! If we hurry and get into place, we can—"

Jim walked toward her and held up a hand, interrupting her excited report. "Okay! Slow down," he ordered calmly. He gave her a smile. "I think you have the wrong person. My name is Jim and I’m not from around here. What’s your name?"

She stopped, panting and looked at Jim as if he’d lost his mind. "Robin! I’m _not_ kidding. We need to get into place! Lord Faramere’s got loads and _loads_ of treasure. We can give it to Friar Tuck at the church!"

"Excuse me," Spock said, stepping forward. "But do you know who we are?"

"Of course, I do." The young girl rolled her eyes, obviously impatient. "This isn’t time to play _games_."

"Could you tell us who you _think_ we are?" Jim asked her kindly. "Just to make sure we’re doing this right."

The little girl gave an exaggerated sigh and placed her hands on her hips. "Fine. _You’re_ Robin Hood. _He’s_ Little John and _she’s_ Joan." She pointed at Uhura, then Chekov, Sulu and Bones. " _They’re_ Allen-A-Dale, Porthos and The Doctor."

"I was hoping for D'artagnan, actually," Sulu said softly behind him. "At least I'm still one of the three Musketeers."

"And _your_ name?" Jim prodded her gently.

She sighed again. "I’m _Will_ Scarlet, _of course_. Robin, we don’t have time for this! We have to get in place before Faramere's carriage gets any closer!"

"Sure, just give us a second," Jim replied, signaling the others to gather around him.

"Hurry!" Will insisted as she turned to head back down the trail Jim and the others had scouted.

"Captain," Spock said quietly to Jim. "I believe that the only way to gather more information is to go along with the scenario."

"You mean, rob this Faramere guy?" Bones asked with a scowl. "That doesn’t sound like it’s going to make us very popular with the natives."

"On the contrary, Doctor," Spock replied. "If we are, indeed, playing out the Robin Hood folklore, then giving riches to the poor would help endear us to them."

"But the Musketeers and certainly, Joan of Arc, never robbed anyone," Sulu pointed out. "And I doubt The Doctor did either."

"None of this makes sense," Bones complained. "My character doesn’t even have a name. What am I supposed to be doing in all this?"

"There was on old Science Fiction character called ‘ _The Doctor’_ , in the 20th century," Uhura added. She looked Bones over. "He didn’t have a name that I ever heard of. But I don’t think he was a physician type of doctor."

"I think Spock’s right," Jim said. "Obviously, we’ve been given parts to play, from old Earth’s history. Even if they don’t all fit, they all come from the same place. Someone wants us to play it out."

"You actually want to _rob_ someone?" Bones asked in disbelief.

"No, but we can be there to meet this Lord Faramere. Maybe we can get more information, before we resort to robbing people."

"I believe that would be a wise move," Spock said.

"Okay, everyone grab your weapons, just in case. But don’t use them for anything but defense. Bones, you stay here and—"

"If _you’re_ all going to ambush someone, then _I_ should be there," Bones said with a scowl, crossing his arms. "I may not have much in the way of medical supplies, but I’m still better than nothing. I think."

"Yeah, you’re right," Jim said, rethinking the camp issue. _I don’t think anyone ever robbed Robin Hood himself, did they? We should probably stick together._ "We’ll all go. That way if something goes wrong we won’t get separated."

Jim turned toward the girl, who was eyeing them anxiously from the start of the trail. "Okay, Will. Give us a minute to grab our weapons. Then we’ll follow you."

"About time!" Will said, rolling her eyes. "Hurry up!"

They all grabbed their weapons, Bones grabbing his bag with his medical supplies and his cane. Jim up-ended the boiling water on the fire and it hissed as it went out. He put his hand over the steam and touched the embers and shook his head at Spock.

_No real heat there either. Just really warm, like the fire._

Jim grabbed his own bow, some arrows he placed in his scabbard and secured the big, but blunt, knife at his waist. Will, who took off in a run back down the trail, didn't even look back to see if they were following.

After a while, they came back to the same spot in the main road they’d found before.

"Up in the tree!" Will said, jumping up to grab a branch and pulling herself up. "They won’t see us up here until it’s too late."

Jim watched her climb. "Chekov, you, Sulu and Uhura climb up with her to keep an eye on things. Don't interfere unless we're in danger. Spock, Bones and I will stay down here and see if we can get those in the carriage to stop and talk to us."

As Chekov and Uhura were positioning themselves up in the branches, Jim huddled with Bones and Spock. "I’ll stand by the side of the road and step out in front, without my bow. See if I can get them to stop. You two stand behind the tree and out of sight. If anything seems to go wrong, then you can chime in."

"That sounds dangerous," Bones complained. "They'll have weapons."

"The carriage may stop for one person," Spock said to Bones, "but be frightened by more."

"That’s why I’ll be the only one in sight to start with," Jim agreed. Sounds of horse's hooves and the jangle of harness buckles came from up the road. Jim could see a four-horse carriage coming their way around a curve. "Get in place. They’re coming."

Jim stood by the side of the road and watched as the carriage came closer. He didn’t know much about Earth history, so he had no idea if the carriage was correct for the supposed time period of the Robin Hood story. It was certainly the possession of someone very rich, though. Gilt and lacquer trim covered everything, making the carriage glint whenever a ray of sunlight made it through the trees to strike it.

The horses spotted him first, sliding to a halt on the soft dirt of the road and rearing up in fright. The carriage driver, a man in a bright blue coat and tri-cornered hat fought the horses for a moment, his own eyes wide with fright as he caught sight of Jim. Jim had held up his hands, smiled, and was going to offer his apologies for startling the horses when the man yelled, making the horses back up in fear.

"Ambush! Robbery!" the man yelled with fright. "Robin Hood!"

"No! No! Honestly, I'm not--"

A loud boom filled the air and a chip flew off the tree behind Jim as he ducked for cover. The barrel of a large, horn-shaped gun had poked out of the carriage window from behind a curtain.

Jim scrambled behind the tree trunk, Spock and Bones's hands grabbing him to help drag him behind the wide cover.

"Great idea!" Bones hissed angrily. "Apparently they must know Robin Hood's reputation."

"Had to give it a try," Jim said with a shrug, then peeked around the edge of the trunk. He raised his voice so those in the carriage could hear him. "We're _not_ here to harm you! We just want to--"

"Captain!" Uhura yelled, followed by the sound of feet hitting the ground.

"Give us all your treasure!"

Jim's heart leaped at Wills high pitched, confident demand.

"Grab her!" Jim ordered as he threw himself into the open, walking away from the front of the carriage.

Jim held up his hand for the attention of those on the carriage. He tried to put on a pleasant smile as he watched Spock and Bones head for Will, who had landed in the middle of the road in front of the scared horses.

"It's okay!" Jim said loudly, still moving further away from the horses. He could see the barrel of the gun follow him shakily. He heard Will's angry squeal as Bones got to her first, picking her up with an arm around her waist. Spock put himself between them and the carriage, and help them back behind the cover of the tree. Jim waved his hands to keep the passenger's attention. "Just a joke! Just wanted to ask you a few questions!"

The gun did not go off again and Jim realized he didn't even know if the ancient-style weapon needed to be reloaded again or not. The barrel wavered more, then suddenly the gun dropped through the window to the ground and the door opened. A man, with styled white hair, embroidered vest and soft, expensive looking shoes held his hands up as he exited the carriage. It was obvious he was someone of note, as Jim had rarely seen anyone so extravagantly dressed for travel.

"Please, spare my life!" The man pleaded with a trembling voice. "You may take anything I have. Just don't kill me!"

"I'm _not_ here to rob you!" Jim asserted. He took a couple of slow steps toward the man. He could also hear Will arguing angrily behind the tree.

"Samuel! Give him the box!" the well-dressed man yelled to the driver of the carriage. The driver scrambled frantically to the top of the carriage and started to unhook a large wooden box from the top.

"I _swear_ , I _don't_ want your money or your treasure," Jim said once again. "I _just_ want to ask you some questions."

But the man didn't look as if he believed a word Jim was saying.

The driver pushed the untied box from the top of the carriage and it fell heavily behind the vehicle. Then the man scrambled back onto the driver's platform and with barely a second's hesitation to allow the passenger time to scramble back into the carriage, he whipped the horses into action. The carriage jolted forward with a loud creak and complaint from the stressed joints and Jim stood dumbfounded as the carriage took off and soon disappeared down the road and around a bend.

Chekov, Sulu and Uhura jumped down to the lower branches and then to the ground. Spock and Bones, who had a firm grip on Will's arms, came back around the tree.

"Sorry, Captain," Uhura said as she walked up and gave Will a disapproving look. "She jumped down before we realized what she'd planned to do."

"You were going to _let him go_ ," Will accused with narrowed eyes, staring back at Uhura while trying to yank her arm out of Bones's grip. "We're supposed to _rob_ him, not stop and _talk_ to him."

Jim nodded at Bones to let her go. Once free, she turned and stuck her tongue out at him before turning toward the road and running eagerly toward the box.

"Are you alright, Doctor?" Spock asked Bones once Will was out of earshot.

"I'll be fine," Bones said, pulling up his sleeve to look at his forearm.

"What'd she do?" Jim asked.

"She bit me." Bones shook his head as he looked closely at the bite mark. "It'll bruise, not dangerous. Your blister is worse. Look at this, though." Bones pointed to the sides of the bite mark.

Jim looked at his forearm and could see the red marks he expected. She'd caught mostly skin. But it didn't look right. Instead of several marks from individual teeth, there were two large marks at either side of a few single ones, as if her molars had fused into one large tooth on either side, upper and lower. The teeth that showed up front looked normal for most of the Federation species.

"She _looks_ human," Bones said, pulling down his sleeve and nodding toward the girl who was happily digging through the box with Sulu, Uhura and Chekov watching her. "But there's one difference already."

"Well, if we couldn't talk to those on the carriage, then we'll have to talk to her," Jim said, watching as the girl held up various bits of jewelry and shining cloth to show her audience.

"She does seem to feel as if she is a part of our group," Spock said. "While not putting her in danger, it may be that she will be able to lead us to the true explanation of where we are and why we are here."

"Well, it's not like we can just kick her out," Bones said. "If she is a living being, I'll bet she's young. Immature for her species. She could be helpless out here without us."

"Her apparent youth may be as false as the fire," Spock pointed out.

"True," Bones said with a scowl. "But I just have a feeling she's not any older than she looks."

"She presents herself as a little girl, so we'll treat her as such," Jim said watching her. "We'll talk to her and try to see if we can get her to explain what's going on. Better than..." He waved his hand toward the road, "trying to talk to those who are afraid of Robin Hood."

He walked toward the group around the wooden box. Sulu and Uhura watched them approach and Chekov was squatting next to the girl. Will, who'd put a very large necklace of what looked to be diamonds around her neck, stood up happily. "See!" she said, patting the sparkling necklace that covered her torn and dingy shirt. "Now we can give to the poor! Except these," she said. "I think I should keep these. So they'll be safe." She nodded her head at her announcement, as if agreeing with herself.

"Fine with me, Will," Jim said with a smile. "But I think we should get off this road. What do you think about going back to the camp for the evening? We can give to the poor tomorrow."

"Okay!" Will said happily as she started walking back to the trail that led to their campsite, still wearing the necklace. "But you guys will have to carry the box!"

"Yeah, sure," Jim said, watching her as she skipped along without concern. He then looked at those around him. "Well, c'mon guys. Time to get our treasure back to the camp."

They all set about throwing all the jewelry, gold coins and bits of fabric back into the heavy box. With Spock taking the handle on one side and Sulu and Bones sharing the load on the other, they slowly walked back up the trail toward their camp. Spock remarked that even the gold did not weigh what it should. Everything was still too light.

"Keptain!" Chekov moaned, following behind Jim and Uhura, " _Nothing_ here is matching the facts! I'm _sure_ that the carriage and those men vere dressed from the mid-eighteenth century, England. Not even close to--"

"Yeah, I'm getting the picture," Jim agreed with a sigh. "Either someone's testing us, or they really have their Terran history messed up. I'm not sure which is scarier."

Once at the campsite, Jim set out some chores for everyone. Bones was to take the horse down to the small stream that wasn't too far away, so it could get a drink. Uhura was to set out the mats for the night, Sulu and Chekov to dig a latrine behind some of the denser bushes. Spock would go with Bones and bring back buckets of water to the camp and if they could figure out how to tie it to the horse, all the better. Jim would set the tripod and pot back up and see about starting some dinner. Will seemed content to sit by the fire and play with the items in the chest.

_Stew it is_ , Jim thought as he looked over their provisions. _We can keep the jerky out and eat it separately, so Spock won't have to pick meat out of his vegetables._

"Captain?" Uhura said quietly as she stepped down from the front of the wagon. She'd been tossing the mats out, onto the ground. "There are seven mats, one pillow and one blanket."

"Seven?" Jim said, looking over at Will. "There weren't seven before. And no pillows or blankets."

"I know," Uhura replied. "But _now_ there are seven of us. We have our capes. And now she has a mat, a pillow and a blanket."

"Okay," Jim said looking around him casually while keeping his attention on Will. "Someone's taking care of her. Or she's taking care of herself. Why don't you see if you can get her to talk to you?" Jim suggested. "See if you can get her to reveal something."

Uhura nodded, then turned toward the campsite and said loudly to Will as she walked toward her, "Will? Where would you like to sleep tonight? Is there one spot you prefer?"

Sulu and Chekov came back just as Jim was starting to wash the potatoes and carrots. He'd tasted a carrot to make sure it was edible, but it tasted like cardboard. The piece of potato he'd sliced up was the same. And he was afraid of the eggs. At least they had salt, which tasted like salt.

The evening went quickly, with Will and Uhura examining all the treasure and talking quietly. Jim boiled up enough of the vegetables for everyone and passed around hunks of the meat-like jerky. Will ate as if she was famished while the rest of them picked at the food. Jim noticed Bones looked askance at his own plate and Jim knew he was regretting the lack of a med-scanner or one of Spock's tri-corders to see if the food was even digestible and nutritious, let alone non-poisonous. But with no way to test them out and no provisions of their own, there wasn't much for it but to play along. They could only assume that if someone had wanted them dead, there would have been a much easier way than to sabotage their food.

They all tried to remember what they'd been doing before appearing at the campsite. Jim could remember getting up for his shift, working with the Symmetrillions and getting ready to sit down and give his Captain's Log before his shift was over. Bones remembered being in Medbay, winding things down for his shift. Everyone had been on Alpha shift and all remembered getting within an hour or so of it ending. Then, the campsite. So, no help there.

Will listened quietly, but pretended not to. Jim was hoping she'd chime in with something, but she was strangely quiet and went back to playing with the treasure. Bones had tried to talk with her, to see if she had any scrapes or anything for him to look at. He wanted to see if she would allow him to examine her. No luck, but she did show a child's healthy interest in the leeches.

Bones had offered to demonstrate by using the leeches on Jim's bruised arm. Jim had laughed until he realized Bones was serious, then had politely declined. Both Bones and Will had looked disappointed. Jim had then picked a tree, on the edge of their campsite. He tried to cut a rough outline of a circle in the bark, finding the dull knife pretty useless. He had made enough of a mark to use for target practice, aiming away from the camp and the others. He practiced for a while, managing not to hit his arm again. Uhura took turns challenging people to a fight, and they all practiced with their own and each other's weapons.

They all soon became frustrated with holding back, afraid that their only weapons would break on them. Even some of Jim's arrows bounced off the trunk rather than penetrate the bark. Jim hoped they were lucky, and just looking like lethal weapons would be enough defense.

When the sun set, Jim checked with Spock, who had been watching the progress of the sun and confirmed that the rotation of the planet matched that of Earth. And as they all sat around the campfire, which gave out the normal amount of light if not warmth, Jim tried to get Will to talk to him again. The girl just ignored his questions. But she seemed to take an interest in Chekov, sitting next to him and running on at length about all the future treasure Robin Hood and his men would steal and give to the poor. Chekov nodded politely and compared notes with her. Soon she was yawning and Jim called it a night, setting up a schedule for guard duty. Bones had volunteered for first shift and Jim had given Uhura the next, so Jim called Bones and Uhura outside the campfire to talk in private.

The three of them stood in the dark shadows of the tree, far enough away from the camp that no one could hear them. Especially not Will.

"Has she said anything useful?" Jim asked Uhura in a whisper.

Uhura sighed and combed her fingers through her short hair. "No. I think she's been coached well. She wouldn't talk about her parents or any family. Wouldn't say where she was born. The nearest village is called _The Village_. According to her, her name is Will and she's always been a part of our Merry Men. She's anxious to get to the village tomorrow, to give the treasure to the local church."

Jim nodded. "Then I guess that's what we'll do. Uhura, see if you can get her bedded down for the night. I see she's agreed to sleep by you and Chekov. Maybe she'll trust you more in the morning."

"Actually," Uhura said with a slight smile, "It may be better to keep her paired with Chekov tomorrow. She's a bit leery of me, and I think she may be nursing a sudden crush on our youngest Merry Man."

"Ah. Young love," Bones said with a smile. "It does tend to get tongues wagging."

"When Will falls asleep, I'll tell Chekov to pay her more attention tomorrow," Jim said with a small smile. "Let him work that Russian charm he claims he has. If nothing else, maybe he can point out more things about this place that are wrong to her and see how she responds. Go ahead and turn in. I need to talk to Bones."

Uhura smiled and nodded, then headed back to the camp. Jim could see everyone was starting to bed down for the night.

"I'd leave you with the bow and arrow, but I don't think you'd be much better at it than I am," Jim said to Bones with a smile. "But I see Spock's left you his club. And you have your knives."

"I'll be fine," Bones said with a smirk. "I'm all in black, who's going to see me?"

"Don't wander too far when you scout the perimeter," Jim reminded him. "Wake Uhura up when your shift is over. You'll have to guestimate out here, with no clocks."

Bones tapped his head. "Spock knows. And he'll be meditating most of the night, to save energy. He'll signal when it's time for shift change."

Jim nodded. "Good idea."

Bones frowned. "This could get _really_ bad, Jim. I'm useless out here."

"Bones? What do you mean?"

Bones sighed and shook his head, his long hair hiding part of his face from the dim firelight. "Jim, medicine is _ancient_. Even those cultures that don't believe in helping the weak, deformed or injured have some kind of medical knowledge. Even if it's just for self-help purposes. And no matter how much I study, I'll never be fully up-to-date on all the species that we come across and work with. When it comes to something I don't know, I have to depend one hundred percent on my knowledge sources. Other doctors, databases, scanners, tricorders, biobeds... But this?

Bones shrugged helplessly. "Jim, I'm trained to use the tools and resources of _our_ time. I can do basic life-saving techniques, but that may only be a bandaid on a fatal wound. I can't heal without my tools. I can't even definitively diagnose most things. I have to take a guess. If someone gets badly hurt..." Bones drifted off with a grimace.

"You can't fix them," Jim added softly.

"Jim? I probably can't even keep them alive." Bones put a hand on Jim's arm. "I can't trust that anything in my bag is what it seems to be, even if I knew how to use them. All those packets? I have no clue as to what they really are, what they're supposed to be, or what they're supposed to do. I don't even have a needle and thread, for gaping wounds. _That_ primitive step to close a wound is barely taught anymore let alone used on anybody. If it hadn't been for survival training, I never would have seen it done in real life. So _much_ of my training is in how the body works, how so many of them do, and how to use the _tools_ we've developed over the years. Knowing what I need to do won't do anyone much good if I don't have the tools to do it with. If I ever had to do surgery to, say, remove one of those arrows you and Chekov carry, I'd be doing it with dull knives, no antiseptic or anesthesia, nothing to sew you up with and a lot of prayer. 'Cause that's all I'm good for here."

"Which will be better than all the rest of us, put together," Jim said, gripping Bones's shoulder. "We're _all_ lost here, Bones. None of us know what we're doing. Not really. Just do what you can do, when you can do it. No one is expecting miracles."

"Then you'll take me seriously when I tell you, _all_ of you, to _be careful_!" Bones said forcefully.

"I _hear_ you," Jim said seriously, nodding his head. "But we'll get through this. You'll see."

Jim smiled, wanting to leave his husband in a lighter mood. He reached out to snatch one of the many wayward locks framing Bones's face. The grey was hidden in the shadows. Jim tugged at it a bit. "Always figured you had some hidden curl in there. Got it from your mother. I like the long hair. Makes you look dangerous and incredibly sexy."

Bones huffed with disbelief. "Maybe that'll be a good thing when we meet the locals. I'll stun them with my beauty. But tomorrow, I'm tying it back if I don't cut it off with one of those dull knives first. But I can't say _this_ is an improvement." Bones reached up to place a palm on Jim's cheek, a thumb running over his mustache and beard. "Never did care for beards on a man, even before I found one I wanted to kiss."

"How do you know if you haven't tried it?" Jim dared with an evil grin.

Bones leaned in and kissed him. It was short, but tender and full of love. Jim thought it felt strange from his side, but not unpleasant. He hadn't played much with facial hair before.

Bones's scrunched up face told Jim what he thought.

"Okay," Jim laughed. "Not a keeper. Got it. Just... yell if you have any problem."

Bones stepped back with a small, lopsided grin. He dropped his hand from Jim's face. " _Scream_ you mean? I can scream _really_ loud. Opera level high notes. You'll _know_ it's me. Just don't tell my Pa I can hit such high notes. He'd worry."

"Let's hope it won't come to me having to tell him," Jim said with a chuckle and he reluctantly turned away. "Good night."

"I'll be _fine_ , Jim," Bones said softly as Jim walked back to the campfire and his sleeping mat. "Try to get some sleep."

"Good advice," Jim said to himself. "If only it were _that_ easy."

 

***

 

_Plague Doctor?_ McCoy thought as he trailed the wagon. _Now, that wouldn't be a pleasant job. Bet it would be hard to get and keep friends, if you're always in and out of plague areas. I can’t imagine having to live in all this leather and black, either. I guess we’re lucky the temperature here doesn’t seem to change, or I’d be sweating like crazy by now. At least the shoes fit. Someone had our sizes down pat. And the hair growth is crazy. At least I found something to tie mine back with._

McCoy walked, watching the others. Especially Chekov and Will. The night had passed quietly, with nothing moving during the night. Too quiet. Which Spock’s Vulcan hearing verified. There had seemed to be no animal movement during the night. They had heard birds once the sun came up, but no one had actually seen one.

They’d eaten a quick breakfast of hard bread and dried apples. All which tasted the same. They’d filled in the latrine, put out the fire and packed up their sleeping mats in the wagon and covered it. While there, McCoy had seen Jim slip some of the treasure into the bag he had slung over his shoulders. McCoy knew it was in case they actually needed some currency later. Jim obviously didn't want Will to know. The horse seemed agreeable to being harnessed to the wagon and in the early hours of the morning they had gotten to the road and headed toward _The Village_.

They all walked around the wagon, with Sulu leading the horse. Will seemed to take the trip as an adventure.

After a few hours, Chekov tried to get her to talk about her favorite animals and asked if she had any pets. She mentioned birds, squirrels and other animals but only vaguely. She didn’t seem to want to answer any questions about their characteristics or care.

_She could be human, but she’s not really familiar with the Terran animals she’s talking about. If we could find out where she’s getting her information, maybe we could figure out what’s going on._

"There! There’s the village!" Will said excitedly as they came to the end of the forest and the start of a large field. In the distance was a large stone wall with huge gates. Further beyond the wall, McCoy could see four round, shingled turrets of a castle. There were plumes of smoke here and there. There looked to be several men guarding the gate.

Will ran up to Jim, who had taken a turn leading the horse. "Let’s go!"

But Will headed further down the road that looked to go around the side of the great wall, not to the front gate.

"Aren't we going there?" Jim asked her, pointing to the gate.

"I keep telling you, we need to go to the church," Will said impatiently. "It's _this_ way."

As they continued on, there grew a thick tree-line between the village wall and the road. Will skipped happily in front of them, seemingly sure of the church's direction. Soon, they came upon a small house built of wood and straw and separated from the road by a white picket fence. There were several small children in the front, and a young woman working some kind of spindle. To McCoy, they looked healthy.

_Maybe too healthy for this kind of life. In human history, these people would be suffering all kinds of problems, from scrapes, bruises and eczema, to bones that hadn't healed well from bad breaks, rotten teeth, poor eyesight, parasites and all kinds of natural organ problems. Not to mention plagues brought in by travelers and **their** viruses and parasites. What was the average lifespan during the Middle Ages? Forty-Five? Less? _

"Let's talk to her," Jim said. Will stopped and looked at him rolling her eyes. "Just for a few minutes," he told her with a smile.

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms in frustration.

Jim left the road and walked over to the edge of the fence. McCoy and Spock followed, with the rest staying near the wagon.

"Hello!" Jim said with a smile.

The young woman looked up and nodded, "Good day." The children looked at them without interest, then went back to their play, kicking a ball back and forth.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but could you tell me the name of this village?" Jim asked.

She looked up, her expression pleasant but a bit vague. "Why, it's called _The Village_ ," she said. "What else would it be called?"

"Told you," Will said as she came up behind him.

"What do you call this area? This... country? Your people?"

The young woman, not taking any time to stop her work, looked at him kindly. "This area? It's the world. Our people are... people." She shook her head as if the questions were meaningless and not worth considering.

"What about your neighbors? What are they called?"

"They are called... my neighbors," she said, stopping and blinking in confusion, as if she'd never been asked that before. "My neighbors live down the road."

"What about _distant_ neighbors," Jim asked. "Those who live far away?"

"I do not know them," she said simply. "We are... all here."

_Well, that's strange. Why would the village have walls for protection if they don't have anyone to defend it from? Do they have monsters instead of invaders?_

"And your leader?" Jim asked, looking at Spock for any suggestions for further questions. Spock shook his head.

"Why, King Richard, of course," she said with a large smile.

"Yes, of course," Jim said. "Thank you."

She smiled and nodded at him.

"See?" Will said. "Let's go! We need to get to the church!"

"Captain," Spock said quietly as the three of them walked back to the wagon. "The native acts very stilted, with no real signs of curiosity or initiative of thought. The children showed neither fear nor curiosity."

"Yeah," Jim admitted. "It could be they're used to strangers this far outside the village walls. But talking with her felt more like talking with an automatic hologram. As if she was following a script."

"And a very limited script at that," Spock replied.

Jim signaled Sulu, who had control of the horse once again, to continue after Will.

"This is all fake," McCoy said to Jim and Spock. "from the food and fire, to the people. Is this a test of some kind? To see how we'd react to a lower level technological society? See if we run around, trying to take over and rule or something?"

"It's possible." Jim smoothed his beard, thinking. " _Too many_ unknowns at this point. If we could only remember where we were and what we were doing before we were brought here, that would help. Do we have a shuttle parked somewhere? Did we pick out these outfits and personas?"

"Me, without my medkit and medical tricorder?" McCoy huffed. "Don't think so."

"I feel that the Doctor is correct," Spock added. "I do not see us making any plans of our own that would leave us so unprepared."

"So, we're out of options?" McCoy asked.

"Not out, just limited," Jim decided. "We have Will and her quest, and I think we need to follow it through. If the rest of the population is like that mother, then Will may be what all this is about. She seems to be the only real intelligence we've met so far."

"Only if Chekov can get her to talk," McCoy said, eyes on the little girl walking backward and watching Chekov with fascination as he talked to her animatedly. The kid used his hands a lot when he was really invested in what he was saying. She definitely had a crush going on there. "If he can't get her to tell us what's going on, I'm not sure the rest of us can. She knows how to clam up tight."

"That she does," Jim admitted. "But let's get to this church and see what happens."

 

***

 

As they walked, Jim's mind went over all the information they had, but there just wasn't enough of it. They'd gone about twenty minutes past the woman with the children and had seen several more people as the road got busier. There had been several more houses and some people on horseback or wagons of their own. All only nodded and smiled as they passed or went about what looked like daily chores. Then Sulu stopped and signaled for Jim and Spock to come up.

"What is it?" Jim asked.

"I can hear some kind of music," Sulu said. He pointed through the trees toward the village. "And look at the village wall."

"I don't see a wall," Bones said in confusion.

"I believe that is what Sulu is pointing out," Spock said. "The defense wall has ended sometime back."

"What good's a defense wall if it doesn't surround what you're trying to defend?" Bones asked in surprise.

"One that's only for show," Jim replied.

"Almost there!" Will called from ahead of them, waving them forward. "Hurry up!"

They followed the road for a bit longer, the trees grew thicker and closer to the road in this area. The distant sounds of music seemed muted by the thicker cover until it disappeared.

They came upon a trail almost hidden from the main road. Will skipped down it cheerfully, no longer stopping to cast them impatient glances as they followed behind. At about a half a kilometer a small church came into view. Larger than the other buildings they'd seen so far, Jim guessed it could hold about thirty-five to forty people. There was a wooden front door, and two stained glass windows on either side. The building was one story, with a shingled roof and a bell spire set toward the back. There was room for several wagons in the front yard. On one side of the church was a white-picket fence that was covered in vines, the interior view blocked by bushes. As they drew up close, Jim could see the stained glass was just random panels of colored glass. Pretty, but not very revealing.

Will skipped up to the door, and knocked on it, then opened it.

Chekov was right behind her as she let herself in.

"Tie up the horse, stay with it. Keep an eye out and holler if necessary," Jim ordered Sulu as he, Uhura, Bones and Spock followed.

Inside were three church pews on either side of a narrow aisle, and at the other end was a long table with a linen cover and candle holders at either end. There were long, narrow tables down both side walls with candles as well. Jim noticed the light inside was considerably brighter than the two windows or lit candles could account for. There was a large, plain wooden cross on the wall, but it wasn't proportioned the same as a Terran, religious one.

There was a door at the back, and Will walked toward it.

"Friar Tuck! We're here and we have treasure for the poor!" Will yelled.

"Treasure?" Jim heard a voice from behind the door, and all his senses went on alert as the door started to open. "Why, how thoughtful of --"

Jim recognized the voice and stood behind Will, hands on hips and a scowl on his face. Harry Mudd was dressed in some kind of body length and shapeless brown tunic with cowl, rope belt, and his black hair ringing a round bald spot at the top. When Mudd saw Jim, he froze. Then turned and ran back into the room behind him.

"Damn it, Harry!" Jim yelled as he avoided Will and ran after Mudd. "You might as well stop, now that we know you're here."

The room in the back was small, with a tiny fireplace, cot, table and chair. Harry had apparently been eating, since various bowls of food were set all across the table.

Harry stopped and sighed, having nowhere else to go. He held out his arms and turned around, his fussy little black mustache framing his welcoming smile.

"Jim Kirk! Why, it's you! I didn't recognize you in that... get up!" Mudd held out his hands in welcome. "Green suits you, my boy! And I expect those behind you are Spock and McCoy? Ah, Chekov! What a nice reunion."

"Cut the bull, Harry," Jim said, hands on hips as he faced Mudd. The others crowded in behind him. "Yes, my team is here, so I'm not alone. Don't bother running. I'm not in the mood to chase you, but I will. How the hell did you get here, and what's going on? I thought we left you in jail?"

Mudd shrugged. "Sorry, Laddybuck, but I have no idea. I was minding my own business, and then suddenly, here I was." He indicated the small room.

"And what business would that be?" Spock asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow as he looked at him. "Why Mister Spock. I almost wouldn't have recognized you. You're looking very human these days."

"Insults will not change the question," Spock said casually.

"Well, I don't rightly remember," Mudd said with a shrug.

Jim took two steps toward Mudd, who tried to take two steps back but backed into his own table. "What was the last thing you remember?"

"Uh... well, I was carrying some cargo, when I seemed to have had sort of a... malfunction."

"A malfunction?" Jim repeated. "You wouldn't have been smuggling some sort of cargo through the Neutral Zone, would you?"

"Me? Captain Kirk, _really_ ," Mudd said with an insulted glare. "I'm an independent businessman, who takes local and Federation laws very seriously. I don't smuggle things. How absurd."

Behind him, Jim heard Uhura whisper something to Spock. Jim looked at Spock, who nodded at Uhura.

"I think I remember," she began, "the Enterprise getting an unmarked Federation Distress signal. Outside Symmetrillion space. I think one of the Symmetrillion ships relayed it to us."

"And did you set off an unlisted Federation Distress beacon?" Spock asked Mudd.

Harry looked uncomfortable and shrugged. "I may have."

"Because?" Jim asked.

"My malfunction may have caused quite a bit of damage to my ship," Harry said carefully.

"Asteroid damage?" Jim asked.

"Yes," Harry said, looking as if he was searching for the answer that suited his needs. He laughed helplessly. "You _know_ how those things just come out of nowhere sometimes."

"Ve may have gone in after it," Chekov piped up. "Mudd's ship. I do think I remember doing some mapping for a certain area of the nebula. I remember some talk of the signal coming from just inside the Neutral Zone."

"Neutral Zone? Oh, couldn't have been _me_ ," Harry insisted. "And I'm just as much in the dark as you all seem to be."

Jim sighed. "If I find out you're holding back..." Jim warned.

"Me? Never!" Mudd exclaimed. "Although now that you're here, maybe I do have some information to impart. Now that I know _you're_ Robin Hood."

"Which is?"

"Why Captain, haven't you ever heard of trading for information?" Harry looked at them all speculatively. "We might be able to help one another greatly, if we were to... share resources?"

"Well, I see that you have access to enough food," Jim said eyeing the remains on the table.

"Bah!" Harry barked. "This? I have sampled the gifts from gracious neighbors, who believe in supporting my little church. It all tastes like wood pulp." Harry scrunched up his face. "In fact, wood pulp would taste better."

"Agreed," Jim said. He glanced over at Will, who was watching them all with undisguised curiosity. Jim gave her a wink. "But, we may have something you'd be interested in, being a man of business and all."

"Oh?"

"Yes." Jim gave Harry a smile. "It seems we have come upon some treasure, and if you agree to tell us everything you know about this place, we might be persuaded to part with it."

"Treasure?" Harry said. "Might this be the treasure promised at your arrival?"

"It would be," Jim admitted.

"Well then," Harry rubbed his hands together. "Let us see--"

"No. _Information_ first," Jim said. Crossing his arms and widening his stance. "You don't get _anything_ without that."

Harry looked at Jim for a moment, a calculating look in his eye. "And you agree to take me with you, when you leave?"

"Agree to try," Jim said. "My crew comes first in this situation, Harry. But I agree to give it my best shot."

"And no charges filed?"

Jim widened his eyes and tried to look confused. "And what charges would those be, Harry?"

"None. Nothing." Harry waved away the question. "Fine then." Harry pulled out the chair and sat, leaving the rest of them standing.

"I woke up yesterday afternoon, in that bed, in these clothes," Harry began. "After a cursory look around and finding no one here. I made my way to the village. It's not far, and there's a trail to it outside this door. There exists the dullest, most clueless people in the universe," Harry said with a sigh. "That, and even more tasteless food. Everything looks very clean. Very pristine. As if this were a holo-vid of a very strange story and not real life."

"Did you talk to any of them?" Jim asked.

Harry nodded his head. "Some were willing to do more than just smile at me and nod blankly. Apparently, there is an ongoing festival and a lot of medieval competitions. And a _lot_ of talk of Robin Hood arriving and spreading the wealth. And some concern that the Sheriff of Nodding will stop him. Seems the peasants here, as elsewhere, are in the hope that someone will help them out and concerned that the law will stop it. I never imagined that you'd be Robin Hood. I do remember the lore from my childhood, and several bad holo-vids," Harry said with a smile. "Although I'm not sure about Doctor McCoy or Uhura."

"I'm Joan of Arc," Uhura said grimly.

"Not Maid Marian?" Harry asked with an appreciative smile. "You certainly are the fetching lass."

"I have a _sword_ ," Uhura said, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him. "And I'm willing to use it."

"Ah, _certainly_ Joan of Arc, then," Harry agreed quickly, wiping the near-leer off of his face. "And the Doctor...?"

"I'm a _Plague_ Doctor," Bones said with exasperation, hands on hips. "Apparently, I don't _get_ a name."

"I shall not even pretend I know what that is," Harry said quickly. "But the strange mix of characters you have here does follow a certain pattern of... randomness I have encountered."

"And that would be?" Jim asked.

"Oh, once you get to the festival, you'll see," Mudd promised. "In fact, you'll have to see it to believe it. Now... _my_ treasure?"

"It's in the wagon," Will broke in with a smile. "We have to give it to you, so we can get to the next part."

" _Have_ to?" Harry said with a disappointed squint at Jim. "Why, what a _truthful_ and communicative child. She yours, Captain?"

"She is with us," Jim said shortly. He didn't want to disavow Will and upset her.

Will grabbed Jim's hand and pulled him back towards the door. "C'mon, Robin! We have to finish this."

"All right. Come on Harry, let's get this done."

Jim allowed Will to drag him back into the church proper, and down the aisle and out the door. Sulu had tied up the horse and was petting its nose. It didn't seem to care.

"Captain? Nothing's happened. No one in or out."

"Ah, Sulu!" Harry said in greeting. "Or may I say D'artagnan?"

"Porthos, apparently," Sulu said, surprise at Harry's presence on his face. "And you're Friar Tuck?"

"The merriest of men." Harry grinned. "And _my_ treasure?"

"Back here," Jim said as Will dragged him in that direction. Once at the back of the wagon, Jim flipped up the canvas, uncovering their load. "All yours."

If a wooden box full of treasure was anyone's ultimate fantasy, it would stand to reason it was Mudd's. Jim saw the look of joy and bliss at the box's openings grow to confusion as he sorted through all the gold and sparkle. Jim could tell the very second when Harry picked up a gold coin and realized it was not heavy enough. He picked up a jewel and held it up to the sun. He frowned when he slid the silk-like material through his fingers. He sighed.

"Children's dress-up props," Harry said with disappointment when he shut the lid. He gave Jim a disapproving look. "I feel cheated, Captain."

"Not _cheated_ ," Jim said with a shake of his finger at Harry. "Everything now in that box is yours. How much it's worth in the local area is your problem, not mine. And Will says it's worth something, right Will?"

"Right!" Will blurted happily. "Now we can go to the next part."

"Part of what?" Jim asked casually.

"Part of what we need to do."

"And what's that?"

"Save Maid Marian!" Will said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "You have to _save_ your girlfriend!"

"My girlfriend?" Jim repeated stupidly.

" _His_ girlfriend?" Bones asked. He raised an eyebrow as he gave Jim a teasing look.

" _Robin Hood's_ girlfriend," Chekov threw in. " _Not_ the Captain's. She was not featured in the earlier versions of folklore and was said to be either a shepherdess or a nobleman's daughter, depending on the time and source of the story."

"Oh, good, she's not _mine_. Like I have the time or energy," Jim said with a sigh and a wink at Bones. "So, Will, how do we do that?"

"We sneak into the fair, so that Sheriff Notting's men can't find you and arrest you, then break into the castle and free her!"

"I believe that should be _Nottingham_ ," Chekov said under his breath.

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to do some scouting," Bones said. "See the lay of the land."

For some reason there was something about the word 'scout' that Jim felt was important. He shook it off.

"If the sheriff is looking for Robin Hood, then the Captain will need a disguise," Spock added. "It stands to reason they would know Jim represents Robin Hood in this scenario, in that outfit."

"I may have _just_ the thing," Mudd said happily, grabbing the box and pulling it toward him. "Help me get this inside and I'll show you. You should dock the horse around the side and take him out of his harness. We may need him later."

"I'm pretty sure you don't _dock_ a horse," Jim said. Jim nodded at Chekov and Sulu to help Mudd get the box in the building. "Bones? You're in charge of the living things. Go ahead and get him settled around the back." Jim ducked down and looked at the horse's undercarriage. "Her, I mean."

Bones went to untie the horse from the hitching post while shaking his head. "It."

"It?" Jim asked.

"No girl or boy parts," Bones replied as he started to lead the animal, and the wagon, around the right side of the building, following the faint trail that showed the way. "Meant to mention that earlier."

"You sure?"

Bones gave Jim a chiding look. "Feel free to lift its tail yourself if you think I can't tell a boy or girl horse from an _'it'_ horse," Bones huffed.

"You're _sure_ ," Jim amended quickly. "Another of those unusual things to add to the list, Spock."

"Agreed, Captain," Spock replied as he followed the others back into the church.

Jim took up the rear.

_I hope this scouting expedition gives us something solid to work with. I know that this could all be a dream, or a mental illusion. But I've had enough dreams in the recent past to know that this doesn't feel like those. At least, not one of mine._

_I think this is all real, just not **right**. _

_Wish I could remember what we were doing right before we got here. I have a feeling that would tell us more._

_And something about scouting..._

But he lost the thought before he got halfway to the back room.

 

***

 

McCoy trudged along with Uhura over the overgrown trail to the village. Jim, Will and Spock were well ahead of them, with Jim now dressed in dark browns and his long hair pulled back into a short tail. He'd also ditched the hat and just had his hood pulled up. The white stripe on the side of his head, now more visible with his hair pulled back, was hidden. The consensus was that it was not very Robin Hood-like anyway, so shouldn't point him out to anyone.

Mudd walked the space between Jim's group and McCoy's. Sulu and Chekov made up the last group.

They'd had a late lunch of dried fruit before Mudd had dug out the new outfit for Jim from a stash he'd found folded in a trunk. Spock and Chekov were the only other two really close to the original folklore of the Merry Men, and Jim decided to break them up so that maybe they'd pass unnoticed. Mudd had offered Uhura a light green, frilly dress, faux silk embroidered shoes and a hat that was tall and pointed with bits of ribbon on it. She'd glanced at Jim, who'd shrugged, and then gave Mudd a seriously annoyed glare. He pretended he hadn't offered.

Then when Mudd and Will weren't looking, Jim had divided out the small jewels he'd taken from the treasure chest, urging them to use their own judgments on spending them.

They'd all taken their weapons with them, assured by Mudd that everyone else would be doing the same. McCoy still felt left out about not having a weapon, but Uhura had a sword. He didn't doubt her ability to use it if needed. He'd thought about bringing his Plague Doctor mask along, but they all decided it might freak the villagers out if they had any idea what it represented. If they needed a disguise in the future, it might come in handy if no one had seen it before.

They had a kilometer walk to the village and the festival, and Jim didn't want them all arriving at the same time. Once he, Spock and Will entered the village, they'd head to the castle and the tournaments Mudd had described that were being held in the center of the festival grounds. Sulu and Chekov would head to the middle part of the festival first, then work their way toward the front gate. McCoy and Uhura would make a run around the edges of the grounds.

Mudd claimed he had several 'informants' he'd talked to before who might be willing to tell him more about the castle and Maid Marian's location. He claimed having any of the others there would put them off. McCoy noticed that Mudd had put a couple of handfuls of the treasure gems in his own bag. McCoy wondered if he and Uhura should follow him to see what he spent them on.

When the sun was at the six o'clock position, they'd meet near the front gates. Then they could see if they could figure out what kind of 'rescue' mission they could plan for Maid Marian, if Jim decided to keep playing along with the scenario.

"What do you think she looks like?" Uhura asked McCoy after they'd been walking for a while.

"Who? Maid Marian?"

"Yes," Uhura replied thoughtfully. "Robin Hood would know what his own girlfriend looks like. But if we do break into the castle to free her, what if we free some washerwoman instead? You know, wrong place at the right time."

"I have no clue," McCoy admitted. "You're right. We'll need to make sure we get the right maiden." He chuckled. "At least, I know for sure she's not Jim's girlfriend."

Uhura gave him an amused look. "Oh, and how's that?"

"If she was his girlfriend, she'd be long past the _'maiden'_ stage by now."

Uhura laughed. "Why am I not surprised by that?"

"And I like your hair that way," McCoy said, giving her a smile. "Makes you look wild and dangerous. Pretty badass in that costume. You'd scare me in a fight."

"Ugh," she said with a frown, raking her fingers through it. "I hate it. It'll take forever to grow back, even with your help."

"Please, take mine," McCoy said with a sigh. The bits of hair that had escaped his hair tie kept wanting to blow into his face. "Jim said he liked it, but it makes me feel stupid. And it's a good thing Jim already knew about the grey at my temples, because there it is."

He turned to look at her. "By the way, what was it Spock said to you when we woke up yesterday? If it's not too personal?"

She smiled shyly. "He said _'As always, you are beautiful_ ,' in Vulcan."

"Well, just proves the guy isn't blind or stupid," McCoy said.

"Why, thanks Len, from both of us," she said with a laugh.

They both turned serious when they saw the forest end and Jim, Spock and Will disappear into a crowd. Beyond the trees, McCoy could see people moving and hear music playing. There was smoke in the air from what looked like dozens of small fires.

They stood still, waiting the five minutes Jim said to allow them before joining the festival. Sulu and Chekov waited behind them. They were the only ones on this trail that McCoy had seen so far.

When their time came, they took a left toward the castle and set about walking the perimeter.

The festival was filled with what seemed like hundreds of booths containing people at various crafts and offering a wide array of goods. What they weren't doing was selling anything. Everything seemed to be for free, and if you wanted whatever was on offer, you just had to walk up and they'd hand you something. Plants, food, more fake weapons, clothing, and even balloons.

McCoy recognized them as old-style Terran latex balloons. They'd been popular before the environmentally friendly, quick degrading ones made of fertilizer components were developed later on Earth. And that was even before helium became as precious as gold when the helium mines ran out, before space travel made it available again.

Then there were those ladies in dresses like Mudd had offered Uhura, and those who were dressed like someone from the wild west of from old Earth. There were even some men in the distance that looked as if they were dressed as cowboys, and era's in between from Asia and India. Nothing was consistent and no one seemed to notice.

"Well, I don't feel conspicuous at all. This is like a huge costume party," Uhura murmured to him, then pointed to a nearby booth. "I'm getting hungry again. Let's take a chance on this one."

They went up to a booth that was handing out what looked to be ice-cream in machine-pressed cones. As they walked up, the man behind the booth just smiled and handed them each a cone from the ones already scooped beside him. They walked a few steps away and McCoy tasted his.

"Not even cold," he said to Uhura, who grimaced at the taste of hers.

"It all tastes the same. Like wet paper. Salty wet paper."

They looked for someplace to throw their free treats away. When two children walked by, McCoy smiled at them and held his cone out. One little boy smiled and took it. Uhura did the same and the second little boy, with the same vapid look, took hers.

"Well, some kids will eat anything," McCoy said dusting his hands off. "I certainly did at that age. And you'll notice that not only are people not paying for anything, no one's _really_ eating. They're just carrying the food around."

"Or really laughing or talking..." Uhura frowned. "This really is a hollo-vid, isn't it, and the props and background characters are all on a huge, programmed loop."

"And, I swear, whoever is making that music is on a loop as well. Or they only know about two songs."

"At least it'll be easy to make our escape," Uhura added. "There's no walls surrounding most of the village. It's almost all just sudden forest. And none of those soldiers we saw earlier are making the rounds."

"And I think those were old U.S. western military soldiers to boot," McCoy said. "If Jim, Spock and Chekov are still keeping a list of things going wrong, they'd have an easier time keeping track of the things that are correct. Much shorter list."

McCoy saw a booth selling clothing. A lady was in the back, sewing something. He walked up to the booth with a smile.

"Pardon me, Ma'am? But would you have any needles and thread to sell?"

The Lady at the booth gave him the same empty smile that the others had. Everyone but Will.

"Yes, I believe we do." She walked to the back and took some things out of a drawer next to the lady who was sewing. She walked back to McCoy and handed him a spool of thread and what looked like a needle. "Here you are."

"What do I owe you, Ma'am?"

"They are yours," she said.

"Wouldn't you rather trade?" McCoy asked her, like he'd asked at the other booths.

"They are _yours_ ," she said with the same smile, not batting an eye.

"Thank you."

As they walked away from the booth, McCoy held up the spool, noticing that it wasn't really thread. It looked like wound thread, but wasn't. It was like someone had make a mold of a spool of thread and had cast this one solid object from it. He could only sigh when he held up the needle.

"No eye-hole," McCoy said, holding it up to Uhura. "Can't use either one, even in an emergency." He put the useless items in his bag.

Uhura shook her head. "And absolutely no concept of the use of currency or trade. What good is treasure that's not worth anything in trade? Or even have a need for a Robin Hood if no one needs his charity?"

"This... it's like a child's version of a world," McCoy said thoughtfully. "Colorful crowds, music, games and tournaments. All the free food you can stomach. No need for money. No need to have someone watch you all the time, to keep you safe. No need for a doctor. Just... running and playing."

They continued to walk and observe. McCoy could hear yells and cheers from another area, but they kept to the perimeter. Eventually they came to a makeshift zoo, with various Terran animals in large cages. There was a lion, tiger, bear and leopard all pacing back and forth in their cages. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another cage with a large, white animal and had to take a second look.

People were standing around and watching the animals, talking and laughing in a stilted sort of way. The animals all looked healthy, but McCoy noticed a lack of bedding or signs that they'd been fed or relieved themselves.

_More props? I'd get closer to check, but don't want to get mauled pulling up a tail to check to see if they're anatomically correct. Of course, checking out the people could land me in jail, if not dead._

"This place is crazy," McCoy said softly to Uhura, his eyes on the crowds around them. "I keep feeling like we've fallen through Alice in Wonderland's looking glass, and everyone is mad but us."

"Think we'll see Alice?" Uhura said with a hint of a smile.

"Maybe we've already seen her and didn't notice," McCoy said waving at the crowd, then at the cage at the end. "I thought I saw a huge white rabbit there for a minute, instead of that polar bear. It would fit this crowd."

After several hours of slow meandering, they'd almost made it around to their meeting point when they came upon a jousting match. There were two large stands, one on each side of a long, narrow area separated by a fence. At each end of the area were two Knights on horseback, each with a jousting pole in hand.

There were guards around a large viewing box on one side, and the stands were full of cheering people. Flags were fluttering in the breeze, and a drum roll sounded nearby. The people in the best seats were expensively dressed. The king especially, in some sort of purple velvet, and a young woman seated next to him was finely dressed in white. McCoy couldn't make out their features, but he could guess who they were by the large crown on the man's head.

"That must be King Richard," Uhura whispered. "I guess the crown kind of gives him away, huh?"

"I guess he's not afraid of an assassin's gun if he's comfortable with drawing attention like that. Gunpowder is about the only thing we haven't seen here so far. So, if he's here, then who's watching Maid Marian? Or is that her beside him?"

Suddenly, a signal was given, and the two knights urged their horses to a run. They charged forward, and with a huge 'thwack' their jousting poles collided. One knight was unseated and the crowd roared. McCoy fought the urge to see if anyone needed help. Even if they did, there wasn't much he could do. They quickly dragged the downed knight to the back of the stands, and out of sight in a small tent. Another knight rode up from the back, where several seemed to be practicing. Then they all started setting up for the next match.

"Let's keep going," Uhura said. "It'll be time to meet up soon. We don't have all that much further to go."

As they walked, the crowd started to thin out. McCoy and Uhura walked back to the edge of the forest, to follow it to the front gate.

"This has got to make some sort of sense, somehow," McCoy said, voice raised over the sound of the roaring crowd behind them.

Uhura shrugged. "I'm not holding my breath anymore."

McCoy heard a sound of horses pounding hooves behind him. He'd almost dismissed it, as it mixed in with the crowd noises. A second after his brain screamed that the pounding hooves were much too close, McCoy turned and saw the sharp point of a jousting pole aiming for Uhura.

He shoved her aside but slipped on the loose gravel under his feet. The tip of the pole struck him, catching him and dragging him forward with the momentum of the horse.

"No!" He heard Uhura yell.

He had no footing and couldn't stop himself as the horse dragged him further along. It seemed to take forever before he felt the jarring 'thunk' as the tip of the pole buried itself in a tree trunk. The jolt made him see stars and crushed the breath out of him.

 


	2. Two

 

*** 

 

  

Jim saw it happen from across the green. He, Spock and Will had been heading for the rendezvous point, when they'd spotted Bones and Uhura. Jim had automatically started running when he saw the charge of the knight on horseback, the jousting pole aimed for his people.

"No!" Jim yelled, as he and Spock pushed people out of their way. He ran even faster, eyes on both Bones and Uhura.

Bones had been dragged on the end of the pole, which ended up in a tree trunk. The knight jumped off the horse and drew his sword. He turned to face Uhura, who'd drawn hers.

Uhura held up her sword, looking angry and dangerously determined. The knight came after her and made one sweeping arc of his sword. She blocked it, then swung at him. Jim could hear the brittleness of both weapons as they collided. Either could easily break. She was able to position herself and gave the knight a body kick which unbalanced him. She drew back and swung the sword hard with both hands. The flat part of the blade hit the side of the knight's helmet, and that time Jim heard the ring of metal. The knight faltered and fell over.

"Spock! Check Uhura!" Jim ordered as they came upon them.

Jim ran to Bones, who was trying to stand, but couldn't.

"You okay?" Jim asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, I think," Bones said, gasping for breath as he tried to sit up. He pulled at his clothing, which had bunched up under his armpits. "Caught that bag around my neck, and my cape just under my arm. Dragged me down."

Jim stood and grabbed the jousting pole and pulled. With a sound of splintering wood, it pulled out of the tree, the tip still caught in Bones's pouch, sleeve and cape. Jim pulled the pole back, and Bones pulled himself off the end.

"Captain? Doctor?" Jim heard Sulu's concerned voice calling their names. Sulu and Chekov ran toward them.

"Is the Doctor injured?" Spock asked sharply as he and Uhura came up to join them, followed closely by now breathless Sulu and Chekov. Sulu had out his rapier and Chekov a knife.

"Don't think so." Jim reached a hand down and helped Bones up.

Bones held up his pouch and his cloak. Both had a large torn hole in them, where the jousting pole had caught him.

" _Damn_ , Bones," Jim said with a sigh. "That one was close. Uhura?" He turned to her. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Captain," she said, looking at Bones with relief as she breathed hard. "But the knight isn't."

"Sulu, check him out," Jim ordered, one hand on Bones's arm. As Sulu trotted back to the knight, Jim scanned the people around them, to gauge the crowd's reaction.

_No crowd? No one even interested? A knight goes down at the tournament, and everyone cheers like crazy. But a knight goes on the attack behind the scenes, and no one cares? He's just been beaten by Joan of Arc, and not a second glance?_

Jim saw him then. There was a man in the distance, swarthy, with close-cropped hair, and Van Dyke beard and mustache. He was dressed in dark and heavy fighting leathers, his hand on a sword hilt at his belt. He wasn't dressed like any of the guards Jim and Spock had seen surrounding and following the king. Those were dressed like ornamental dolls. This man was dressed for real battle. His face was grave, his eyes unfriendly as he watched them all. Between one glimpse and another, the man disappeared.

If he'd been closer, Jim would have gone after him. As it was, he fixed the image of the man in his mind. They'd have to find him later.

Jim turned toward Sulu, who was kneeling at the knight's head. Sulu looked up at them with surprise. "It's a dummy," he said.

Bones walked over and knelt down by the knight's head, opposite Sulu. But it was clear from Jim's view that Sulu was right. The face was a doll's face, with only a passing similarity to a living person. Bones tried to check for life signs, and pulled off a glove, but the whole glove came off with nothing inside it.

"Well, no wonder no one knows anything about doctors, medics, medicine men or healers," Bones said, tossing the glove to the ground. "There's no one here to fix or heal."

Jim noticed that Will was standing silent, next to Chekov.

"Will? Do you know what this is?"

She took Chekov's hand, looking reluctant to talk. "He's a knight in shining armor. He fights."

"Are all the knights like him?"

She shrugged.

"Can they hurt us?"

She shrugged again. "They can make you stop."

"Stop?"

"Captain!"

Jim turned. Sulu and Bones were staring in surprise at their feet. There was nothing but grass. The knight had disappeared.

All of them looked around in shock.

"Anyone see it go?" Jim asked. Everyone shook their head.

"Apparently, someone does not want us to examine the figure any further," Spock said.

"Or, that's how they dispose of people," Bones said. "You get hurt, you're removed. No mess."

"We should have been watching at the tournament," Uhura said with frustration. "I didn't notice what happened to the knights that lost their bouts."

"They were taken to the back area, to a tent," Bones said. "Can't say I noticed any of them coming out. And why attack Uhura?"

"It was after her?" Jim asked.

"Pretty sure," Bones said. "I just got in the way. We've only interacted with a few people here. Asked some questions that didn't get answered. Tried some free food that tasted as bad as all the other food we've eaten. Nothing to try to kill us for."

"Well, it's something out of the ordinary," Jim said with a sigh. He glanced around for the man he'd seen before. There was no sign of him. "And I thought I saw a man watching us from next to that smithy." Jim nodded in that direction. The others all tried not to look at the same time. "Just over one and a half meters tall, dressed in brown fighting leathers. Swarthy complexion, close-cropped dark hair and Van Dyke beard. He wasn't watching us in a friendly way."

Jim noticed Will looking suddenly scared now, looking around the crowd herself.

"This could have been a ruse to draw us out of the crowd," Spock said, eyes darting back and forth through the continually milling villagers. "To bring us together and see how we react."

"Then it worked," Bones said with a sigh. "And if we're targets, they've got us pegged."

"We have to leave," Will said anxiously, tugging on Chekov's hand. She looked up at him rather than Jim. "Robin Hood didn't do what he was supposed to. I don't _know_ what happens next."

"Will, what do you think will happen next?" Jim asked.

But she turned and started to drag Chekov with her. Chekov glanced at him, and Jim nodded.

_Now she's scared. What exactly scared her? The idea that we're being watched? And what about Mudd? What is he up too?_

_If she's too scared to talk here, maybe she will back at the church. And if she's taking us someplace else, where she feels safer, then that may be another clue._

Jim signaled to the rest of them to follow Chekov and Will. They wove their way through the crowds and booths to the other side of the large field, toward the trail to the church.

"Jim?" Bones asked him as he walked beside Jim and Spock. "What did she mean when she said Robin Hood didn't do what he was supposed to? What did you guys see out there?"

"A lot of the same as out here," Jim said quietly. "There were a lot of different sporting contests in the center. There was archery, javelin throwing, some kind of tug-of-war and water pits. Even some knife throwing contest. Will seemed particularly insistent that I join the archery contest."

"Seriously? Oh, yeah," Bones said thoughtfully. "She wasn't around when you tried to hit that tree."

"I got a lot better after some practice," Jim said defensively. "But enter a contest? For a golden arrow? Wasn't worth exposing ourselves."

"And there seemed to be a lot of armed security around the event," Spock added. "If Will knows what is supposed to happen next, then others may as well."

"When we get someplace private, Chekov can tell us what the archery tournament was about," Jim said. "I have a feeling all this will be here tomorrow, just waiting for us. I may end up with another crack at it. And we can be prepared to make a run for it if it's a trap."

"So, you think the contest is a setup?" Bones asked.

"A setup or a test." Jim shrugged and frowned. "To see if we know the folklore? To see if Will can influence us and get me to participate? I think that until we know who is watching, and why, we're not going to get any answers. They just want us to move forward."

"So, does that mean we're not saving your girlfriend tonight?" Bones asked with amusement in his eyes.

Jim gave him a crooked smile. "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Did you and Uhura see anything on your survey of the perimeter?

"We cut in front of the castle, so didn't make it around back."

"So did we," Jim admitted. "That forest, right up to the walls? Looks like we could just climb over the castle wall at points."

"A decided lack in skill or forethought in military security and planning," Spock said. "Since they do not seem to have anyone to defend against, that is not surprising."

"When we get back to the church, I'll have everyone report to the group. Then maybe we'll get an idea of what to do. Or what not to do," Jim said. "I'm not sure how far to play along with all this. And maybe Harry Mudd will show up with some answers."

"Doubt that," Bones said.

"Agreed," Jim responded.

They walked quietly for the rest of the trip to the church.

 

***

 

 _Finally, the church,_ McCoy thought with relief as he spotted the church spire just beyond the trees. _Definitely did more walking today than I'm used to. Hell, even some of that cardboard food is starting to sound tempting._

As they passed the small building that housed the horse, McCoy peeked inside.

"Jim? The horse is gone." He looked at the open gate he'd tied closed. The rope was hanging loose.

Jim walked back to him, hands on hips as he surveyed the area.

"It's going to be dark in a couple of hours. Will it come back?" Jim asked him.

"I don't know," McCoy admitted. "Thought I'd tied the door closed well enough. Maybe it chewed it open or someone stole it."

"I think we'll be ditching the wagon anyway," Jim said. "And we all can't ride one horse. So, we'll add its loss to the mix when I get everyone's report. But make sure it has enough food and tie the gate open, in case it wanders back in. Maybe we'll need it later."

It only took a few moments to check on the food and water he'd left out before. All still there. He joined the others out front and they all filed into the church, McCoy taking up the rear. He had just taken a step through the shadowed threshold when a sharp thump rang through his body as a stifling pressure filled his chest, knocking his breath out of him and trying to pitch him forward.

_What? That was... what?_

It felt as if his very thoughts stuttered, making him unsure of what had happened. He blinked, seeing himself still standing in the doorway, one hand on the stone entryway while the rest of him felt odd, cold. He leaned on the arm that was braced on the door frame, feeling woozy as he tried to draw a breath. It was hard.

"Doktor?" Chekov asked, having turned to look at him as the rest of the group headed further into the room.

McCoy's left hand went up to his chest and he felt a hard, protruding wrongness from his sternum the same moment the pain hit.

He looked at Chekov, his own eyes widening as the pain gave him tunnel vision and the room started to move on him.

Chekov walked up to his side and looked at him closely. "Doktor?"

"Jim..." McCoy whispered with what breath he had. His arm started to tremble and his legs weaken. He could feel his body start to collapse. For some reason he didn't know what to do.

"Keptain!" Chekov shouted, eyes wide. He put an arm around McCoy's waist, pulling McCoy's left arm over his shoulders. "He's _hurt!"_

McCoy saw Jim and the rest of the party turn to look at him in slow motion. Then they were all moving in a freeze-frame manner. Suddenly, Jim was in front of him, looking at him with concern. The sounds around McCoy didn't match what he was seeing. They all sounded close, but McCoy hadn't seen them arrive. Then people were touching him.

"It's a dagger! In his back!"

"Lie him down! _Don't_ let him fall on it."

"We need to get his legs _up_ and blood to his brain."

"He's going to collapse!"

"Spock! We need to lie him down on his stomach. Put him down on the altar so we can work on him! Uhura, clear it off!"

"He's going down!"

_A dagger? I guess that makes sense. Not good news, though._

He thought someone might have picked him up. It was like floating.

He heard someone whine as he was moved. He tried to breathe and realized it was getting harder to do. The raw, sharp pain of the dagger slicing further at his insides and the hard grate of metal against his spine and sternum made him want to throw up.

_**Bad** idea. **Bad** , bad, bad, bad idea. Slice me up more. _

The floating sensation lasted only a few seconds before he was lain face down on a hard table. The sharp edge that had been protruding from his chest moved back inside him. McCoy wanted to cry out in pain, but he didn't have the breath anymore. Someone was trying to be gentle as they cut his clothing away from his back. The air felt cold on his skin when it was exposed. Everything felt cold now. He hated to be cold. Vulcan hot hands were on either side of the wound in his back, pressing down with what McCoy knew was an attempt to slow any bleeding. His legs were bent at the knee, his feet were elevated to re-route blood to his brain. Something soft was placed under his head and cheek.

_They don't realize the blade went all the way through. The dagger's backed out a bit now. Releasing some of the pressure on the wound. Spock can slow it, but not stop it. Collapsed lung? Hemothorax, blood in the pleural cavity? Nicked artery? Shock I suppose... Funny, I can't really tell where it is. Symptoms aren't so clear from the inside. Poor diagnosis. I can't think._

"We can _not_ remove it at this time."

"I _know_ , Spock. He could bleed out. Sulu! Chekov! Uhura! Get outside and find who threw this. _Don't_ become targets. Will! Sit down and _stay_ down!"

McCoy blinked as Jim's face suddenly appeared before him. He looked grim, his bright blue eyes full of fear and concern.

_Beard doesn't suit him. Can't wait until it's gone._

" ** _Bones!?_** Stay _with me_ , Bones!" Jim's words were punctuated by his intense stare. "Can you _tell us_ what to do? Tell us _what to do!"_

"Do?" McCoy's brain was fuzzy. He coughed on an exhale and there was a rasping bubble from his lungs. More pain from his chest as he tried to breathe around the damage and the pressure Spock was applying.

" _Bones!_ Listen to me. You've been stabbed in the back. The dagger is still in place. _What do we do_?"

 _Definitely hemothorax,_ McCoy's mind thought lazily. He could feel more bubbling in his chest. The pressure was starting to build even stronger. _Nicked or punctured lung. Nicked aorta. Slow bleed since I'm not dead already. What to do? Nothing. Couldn't fix this myself. Not here. Without my tools. Not in the dark ages._

He could hear Jim and Spock talk with a staccato rhythm, low and quick over his back. Desperate suggestions thrown back and forth in a useless search for answers. McCoy knew there were none. He felt a warm hand on his face. He hadn't realized his eyes were closed. It was so hard to breathe!

" _Bones_? Bones! _Hang on_ , damn it." Jim's tone was soft but demanding as his thumb brushed up and down McCoy's cheek. McCoy had always loved that. How many people in your lifetime do you let touch your face? All those nerve endings, just screaming for contact.

"We'll figure _something_ out. Find some _help_."

"No...use," McCoy said, feeling the cold numbness flow up his limbs. His eyes tried to drift shut. He hated being cold, but he knew this wouldn't last long.

" _Yes_! _Yes_ , there is!" Jim barked out desperately. McCoy could hear deep pain in the words. He could see the fear in Jim's eyes, as the vivid blue became shiny and wet with his distress.

_Such beautiful eyes. Especially when he gets off. I love seeing him that way. Wish I could have seen them that way one more time._

" _Don't_ leave me!" Jim whispered with desperation, his face now close to McCoy's.

_Don't **want** to. **Never** wanted to. Never wanted to leave you **alone**. You won't be, though. Not now. I'm not the only family you have anymore. Not like when I met you. When you only had your Mom and she hardly ever talked to you. Now you have Sam and his family. John and my Pa. The crew. The ship. Starfleet. You're not alone anymore. You have family to care for you. Love you. Just **let** them and you'll get through this. _

The pressure in his chest was almost unbearable and he felt his blood pressure drop again. Against the worsening pain and the growing heat of blood filling his chest cavity, he forced another breath. He needed to say something.

But he coughed most of the air back out, blood flecking the table under his cheek. It stained and poisoned his lips and his mouth with its iron taste.

"Jim?"

Jim's face was so close McCoy could feel his breath. He looked so devastated. So scared. The hand on McCoy's cheek was shaking and his voice was pleading.

"Bones? No! No. Stay _with_ me."

" _Beautiful_ man," McCoy rasped out, feeling his brain and body starting to drift away from him. He tried to smile and force out the words he didn't have the air for. He knew Jim could still hear him.

"Beautiful _soul_. Love ya _forever_ , Kid. It... it **_was_**... _fun!"_

Then he lost his grip on the world and left it, his eyes still on Jim.

 

***

 

 **NO!** _NO! Nonononononononono...._

Pain washed through Jim that was almost physical, taking him over and making him feel sick with it. He'd grabbed Bones's face in both hands, forehead to forehead. His whole soul, his whole being, willing Bones to stay. The hazel of Bones's eyes had dimmed for a fraction of a second, then turned dull and Bones was gone. Had left him alone. Now Jim's soul felt ripped from him. He closed his eyes to hide from the empty ones in front of him.

Jim gasped through the tears, afraid to open his eyes and make it all real, true and forever.

"Jim?" Spock's hand on his shoulder didn't move him to respond. His whole attention was on the beloved body on the table he knelt next to. The texture of the hair in his hands and the skin against his forehead the only thing left to fill the sudden, black hole in his heart. Nothing else was _that_ important.

He heard people come up behind him. Heard talking, and the sounds of horror and surprise.

He didn't care.

"Jim?" Uhura's soft, devastated voice came to him as she squatted next to him. Her hand found his other shoulder. She squeezed gently. "He's _gone_ , Jim. But you're not alone. _We're_ here with you. We'll help you take care of him. But we're all still in danger and we _need_ you."

 _I failed!_ Jim's mind wailed in grief. _I failed him and I'll fail them. Can't she see that?_

"I don't know if I can," Jim whispered to her, afraid to open his eyes or let go of his hold on his husband. "I don't _know_."

He could hear Uhura draw a watery breath. " _We_ know. We know _you_ and we knew _him_. Anything for _family_."

_How many times have we said that, to others and to each other? And they're his family just as much as mine. I have to take care of them, get them all home. Because **he** needed that as much as I do. I can't fail them as well. _

Jim sobbed, then with his eyes still closed, let Bones go. He gathered all the strength he had and pulled himself up, with Spock and Uhura's help. They sat him down on a hard wooden stool, his back to the table. He wiped at his running nose and streaming eyes with a rough cloth that appeared in his hand.

"Let Spock and I take care of him," Uhura whispered. "Maybe Chekov and Sulu have seen something. Talk to them."

Jim took a breath and nodded. He felt thick, numb and slow, but he had to keep alert and try to get them through this. He'd have time when he got home to mourn. He'd have _forever_. But _after_ the others were all safe again.

Jim stood shakily and walked to the front of the church. Sulu and Chekov had returned and barricaded the door. They'd both stood to the side of one of the large stained glass windows, keeping their silhouettes from marking their presence. Sulu looked grim, all business, but couldn't meet Jim's eyes. Chekov was trying hard to do the same but wiped at a loose tear. Both were trying to keep their composure.

_Family. We've all lost family in him._

"Nothing moving, Captain," Sulu said in a tight, clipped voice. "This yard is so small, the attacker could have been behind that wall, or hidden in those trees. He probably threw the dagger and ducked down. We didn't see anyone or any movement. They're long gone."

"Do you think they followed us?" Chekov asked sadly. "Could they be someone from the contests? One of those knights on horseback? Or one of King Richard's men?"

Jim tried to ignore the soft sounds and murmurs from behind him and concentrate on what Sulu and Chekov had said.

"It could be anyone at this point," Jim replied. "So much is strange, here. So much is wrong. And we don't have the answers we need. I keep feeling Harry Mudd knows more than he's telling us."

"He's a liar, for his own purposes," Sulu admitted. "But I thought he wanted to get away from here just as much as we do. Lying to us would only prolong things."

"If he's holding something back, it's for his own benefit somehow," Jim said. "There may be something he wants to take away from all this. And he thinks he can have it and his escape at the same time. When he gets back here, we'll need to work it out of him. Scare the shit out of him." Jim smirked. "And I'm feeling like I need to tear the world up right now. I'm more than willing to start with him."

He caught the glance between Sulu and Chekov. How out-of-control would Jim get? Jim himself didn't know.

"I have friends to hold me back," Jim whispered to them both. "If things go too far."

Sulu looked straight at him then and nodded. Sulu had been married for years now and had a child. He'd understand how both the grief and the need to get home could skewer Jim's reactions for a while. It not permanently.

"Jim?" Spock asked, coming up behind them. Jim turned to see pain in Spock's eyes. It was quiet and deep, but there. How could anyone ever think that he had no feelings?

"We have tended to him," Spock said softly. "If you would like to see him. We seem to have some time."

Slowly, Jim nodded and took a breath before turning back around. He first saw Will, who was sitting quietly in one of the pews. She looked stiff and uncertain. Confusion on her face. He'd forgotten she was there. Then Jim turned back toward the table.

Spock and Uhura had covered Bones with a long linen cloth. The draped outline of the body told him that Bones was now on his back, his arms folded over his chest. Uhura came up to Jim in the aisle and hugged him, sobbing into his shoulder. He held her tight, his own tears wetting her hair. After a moment she let him go, and took a breath, signaling for Will to leave her seat and join her with the others, at the church door.

Trying to leave Jim some privacy.

It seemed to take Jim forever to finish those endless steps to the table. He stopped when he got there, his heart beating fast and his mind racing with reasons why this couldn't be real. It wasn't possible. And he remembered his shared dream with Bones, the one where _he_ had been in the body bag.

_I knew it had been bad for him, when I'd died. I **knew** it but couldn't have realized... how horrible this is. To lose someone you love. To have them take the best part of yourself with them when they leave. I'll never see him again. Hear his voice. Wake up with him... _

More tears came now, and he let them. Jim took the sodden cloth he still held and placed it over his eyes. Then wiped at them. He didn't want to, but he understood Bones better now. Why his need, in his dream, to open the bag. Jim, too, needed to face this. This new reality. He was a widower now and for the rest of his life. If he didn't face it, he couldn't really deal with it. He had to make it real, or he'd be of no use to the rest of his family.

Jim lifted a hand and took a bit of linen between his fingers and gently lifted the sheet from Bones's face.

 _He's gorgeous,_ Jim thought sadly. The wavy black hair, only touched by a few strands of grey, framed a face at peace. They'd closed his eyes and Bones's black lashes curled against his upper cheeks. The bow-shaped lips and upturned nose had always made Bones a good-looking man, but it had been those expressive eyebrows that had first caught Jim's attention. They could be surprised, disapproving, randy, and scolding all at the same time. Or be any emotion Bones had ever had, right up front. Like Bones himself had been. Always right up front with everyone, except for those private, warm, and soft places in himself he kept hidden from strangers. His high cheekbones and heart-shaped face drew all of his features together into one beautiful person. A man who'd now never age past the prime of his life.

_Never **all** grey after all. Not like David. So brilliant. So loving. More than I ever expected to have in a partner. More than I deserved. All that, lost. _

Jim sobbed again and placed a hand on Bones's cheek. He was still warm. Jim rubbed circles with his thumb, the way that had always made that hidden, shy smile come out on display.

_He looks at peace. I hope he is, wherever it is we go after this life ends. Because someone like him can't be completely gone. It's just not possible. I just wish I could remember it to be true, from my own death. I wish I knew for sure he'd be waiting for me there, ready to start all over again with me._

_I don't even have my ring to leave with him, or his to take with me when I walk away. I don't even have **that** choice. _

Jim had a thought and looked back at Uhura, who was standing at the door with Will and the others. "Nyota?"

She wiped at her eyes and came up the aisle to him.

"Do you remember those kids on Aliju VI? Those bracelets?"

Uhura smiled slightly and nodded. Then she took a deep breath. "I can do that. Do you want me to--?"

"No. I'll do it," Jim said, removing the knife from his belt. It was mostly dull but would do the job. Carefully, Jim pulled a long lock of hair from Bones's temple, tugging to pull it loose from the tie at the back. He chose mostly black, but made sure to collect those few strands of grey on that side. He then carefully rubbed the blade over their base until they all pulled free. He handed the hair gently to Uhura. She took it quietly and walked away.

Jim turned back to his husband. Sighing, he leaned down and kissed Bones's lips one last time. They were still warm, but horribly unresponsive. It was so wrong.

"Goodbye, Old Man," Jim whispered wetly as he moved up to kiss Bones gently between the eyes. "Keep the bed warm for me, wherever you are. I might be out late."

With a tired sigh, Jim straightened, and with a gentle hand covered Bones's face again with the cloth.

He just stood there, until he felt Spock come up beside him. Sulu came up as well while Chekov stood guard. Sulu stood quietly on the other side of Bones's body. He reached out and placed a hand on the linen covering Bones's forehead for a second, then turned away.

"I don't know what to do with him now," Jim admitted to Spock after a long moment.

"I believe it would be best to leave him here," Spock said gently. "I do not think the natives will bother him. When we find a way to leave, we can take him back to the ship."

"To Deneva," Jim said quickly. "I want him there, safe with family. Until then, I think you're right. Best to leave him here unless we can... find something better."

"Captain?" Sulu said from a small table in the corner. His voice hesitant.

Jim turned toward him, feeling just as uncertain. _What do I do now?_

"Yes?"

"I believe I know where the dagger came from."

Jim grit his teeth and walked over. One of them, probably Spock, had removed the dagger from Bones's body and wiped it clean. They had lain it on the side table. When Jim saw it, he knew what Sulu meant. It was long and wicked looking, with an almost arrowhead shaped point, the center of the narrow blade was hollow. Two side-blades jutted out from the hilt. The handle was wrapped in wide leather, in several brick-shaped strips.

Jim thought he recognized the shape. "Is that _Klingon_?"

Sulu nodded. "I've seen these in Starfleet's weapons database. We don't have a lot of examples, but I think that's called a _d'k tahg_ knife."

"Could there be Klingon's here as well as us?" Uhura asked as she came up to the small table.

Jim reached out and lifted the blade. It was heavy and had a good balance. It was meant to hurt, disable, and kill.

"Could be. Although Klingon's aren't known for throwing knives. I believe it's more honorable to fight face to face. Bones isn't... " Jim faltered as a wave of grief threatened to wash him off his feet, "...wasn't... much of a fighter. A knife in the back is cowardly. A million times more so against a non-combatant."

"It may be that the killer had that to hand," Spock said. "It would seem to be the first, _real_ weapon we've seen here."

A grim resolve filled Jim's chest as he held it. "I'm keeping it. And I'm finding out _who_ used it on him," Jim said through gritted teeth. "They can have it back, the hard way."

_They cut out my heart. I'll take theirs in return._

"Keptain!"

Jim turned, flipping the knife in his hand, ready for defense. Chekov was still at the window, his eyes wide. He pointed at the table behind them. Bones's table. Jim turned and froze. He heard Uhura gasp. Taking long strides to it, Jim placed his hand flat on the surface. Bones's body was gone and only the linen covering was left. It was as if Bones's corpse had never been there.

Jim quickly scanned the area. "Did anyone see?"

The other four, looking stunned, shook their heads. Will just watched them quietly.

"It was," Spock said grimly, "the first moment when none of us were looking. Except for Will."

All of them looked at Will, who was still sitting in the pew. Jim put the knife carefully in the center of the table and walked over to her. He sat down beside her. She didn't look at him.

"Will," Jim said softly, working to keep the horror and anger out of his voice. He didn't want to scare her. "Bones's body is gone. Do you know who killed him? Or where he is?"

Will chewed her lip for a moment, then shrugged. She still didn't look up at him. "They just stop and go away."

"Will, I need you to listen to me," Jim said, leaning his elbows on his knees so he wouldn't tower over her. She averted her eyes. "I need you to understand, that my people and I are out of place here. We didn't ask to come, or to be brought here. And we don't know what's going on. We don't mean anyone any harm, and we don't even know when or how we got here. That's not _fair_. Now, we've had someone die. My _husband_."

Jim watched Will's reaction. She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the ragged edge of one sleeve. Jim knew she was listening.

"Do you know what that word means? Husband?"

Will shrugged tightly.

"It means that Bones and I loved each other. We were family and had promised to spend the rest of our lives together. You've seen families here, right? In the village? Couples, sometimes more, who choose to live together? Sometimes have children they raise?"

Will nodded tightly, eyes still on her restless fingers. "But in this game, they're mommies and daddies. Not two boys."

"Game?" Jim had a flash of anger at the word. What he'd just lost was due to a _game_?

_Bones was right. She's a child. She doesn't understand._

Jim took a deep breath. "Will? Is this all a game to you? Do you know the rules of this game? Have there been other games?"

Will crossed her arms, looking away. "You're two boys. Two boys don't get married in this game."

"But we're not _from_ this game, Will. We're from somewhere else. And in my world, _anyone_ who loves each other can get married. They can be two boys, two girls, or any group that wants to be partners for life." Jim sighed. "We can even marry those from different worlds, if we want. Because we love each other up here..." Jim said, tapping his forehead. She glanced at him then quickly looked away. "It doesn't matter what the rest of our bodies are like. Bones and I got married because we wanted to be together for as long as we lived."

Jim tried not to choke on the words. He tried to keep the tears at bay. But one fell, and he wiped it away. "But now, he's died. Someone has killed him. This isn't a game to us, Will. And it's _not fair_ if we don't know the rules. If we knew them, maybe he wouldn't have been killed. And it's _not fair_ that he's gone, and I can't take care of his body. I need for you to tell me who is causing all this. Where all this... information you have about our world's past is coming from. What game have we all been brought into? And where my husband is."

Will stood suddenly, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. She walked toward the door and opened it. Jim held up a hand when Chekov moved to stop her.

"Let her go," Jim ordered. "I don't think she is in any danger in this place. Not like we are."

Jim followed her, and the rest of his crew followed him. They glanced around them as they walked to the side of the building, checking for danger. When she got to the side with the white picket fence, Will stopped and looked at her feet.

"He's here," she said with a nod to the side of the building. "Where they're supposed to go when they stop."

Jim looked around the corner and froze. There was a largish plot of grassy ground. Old style headstones lined up in seven neat rows. There were dozens of rose bushes bordering the plot, each bush producing roses in a different color. Even some colors Jim didn't think had ever grown on Earth.

"A cemetery," Jim said weakly, looking at Will. "He's _here_."

She shrugged again.

"Jim," Spock said quietly as he came up beside him. "Please, let us--"

"No," Jim said, "I have to find him."

Jim walked forward and down the first row of headstones. None of them had readable names. They all looked ancient in a fake way, as if deliberately distressed. He saw it, at the end of the first row. A new dirt mound and headstone, carved in what looked like marble. The mound in front of it reminiscent of the millions of graves humans had dug in the past. That, at least, looked real. He walked up to it, then beside it, and read the stone.

 

McCoy

Plague Doctor

 

Jim squatted down. He ran his fingers over the carving. It felt solid and heavy, like real marble.

_Is that all? Of all the things he was, all they knew about him was just his name and his role in this game?_

Spock knelt on the other side of the marker. "Captain, I do not believe they will bother to move him again. I think it would be best to leave him here, for the time being."

"We'll come back for him later. Take him home," Jim said softly. He was suddenly so terribly drained. So tired he didn't know if he could even think straight anymore. "When we get this all figured out, I'll come back for him."

"We all will, Jim," Spock promised.

_First, I find out whose heart I need to remove. And then get everyone home. Everyone._

"Grab food and whatever you all think we need and can carry out," Jim said grimly to Spock. "Food we can eat with no fire. Our cloaks for shelter and bedding. Fuck the horse. He... it's... on its own. We're leaving. Now."

Spock nodded. They all turned back to the front of the church. Will followed Chekov, who turned and held out his hand for her.

Jim stood slowly. It took all his strength to turn away from the grave and join the others. He needed to get back to his job.

"Spock?" Jim said quietly as he walked with him. "I'm going to turn Mudd's room upside down. If there's anything we can use, we take it."

"You do not believe he's coming back?"

"If he does, he'll have all the supplies left in the wagon, and the horse if it returns. If he doesn't, we'll need to try and find him tomorrow. I plan on going further up this hill and see if we can find a high spot where we can watch the village and the castle. I don't know how Will is tied into all this, so I don't know how much to trust her. I want you to hang back, and when we get about a mile from here I want you to break off from the group, head back, and stake out this place all night. Whatever happens, don't interfere. In the morning, we'll either come back as a group or one of us will return." Jim saw Spock's nod of agreement. "That way, if Will is in contact with whoever has set up this whole scenario, they won't get your location from her."

"Agreed."

It didn't take them long to get ready. Jim found nothing useful in Mudd's room. He left his Robin Hood costume there, his new outfit blending in with both the village crowds and the forests better. They all filled up their bags with dried food and some pouches of water. They all took their weapons, and Jim carried Bones's bag. He didn't think any of it would be helpful, as even Bones felt the items were useless. On a whim, Jim tore up the sheets of Mudd's bed into long strips in case they needed bandages in the future and stuffed them into Bones's bag. From the small stable he found some rope and added that to their packs. He found a knife sheath that was wide enough for the Klingon knife, and inserted it, punching the long blade through the bottom. He then buckled the sheath around his waist. Moving his cloak and long shirt around he was able to cover it from sight. Jim suspected if he needed it in a hurry, he could just twist it and it would cut itself out of the thin, leather-like material on its own.

Before they all gathered to leave, Jim whispered quietly to the other three that Spock would be splitting off, so that they wouldn't be startled and alert Will.

Then they left, weapons ready in case they were attacked. Spock, at the back of the party, kept an eye and ear out in case they were followed.

They hiked up the hill in a random pattern. Jim kept an eye on the tree-line to see if they could find a good vantage point. As they hiked further, the trees thinned out. Spock disappeared behind them and Will, always with Chekov now, didn't seem to notice. As the sun started to set, they found a rocky outcropping that gave them a fair view of the village grounds and the castle layout. Unlike the 'defense' wall of the city, the castle seemed to be complete.

As they settled in for the night, Will noticed Spock was gone. Jim assured her that he was doing some work for them and she seemed to take him at his word. She didn't press as to his job or location. The five of them found places to bed down for the night, and Jim gave out watch assignments. He took the first and last turn at watch, knowing he'd get little sleep anyway. They all ate their dried and tasteless meals, Jim wondering if it was really doing them any good, or just making them feel full. Since he had no way to answer that, he just ate his share in silence.

He set himself up on top of a climbable outcrop of rock and set the Klingon blade beside him. From this distance, he could watch as the village shut down for the night and left the others to sleep. They'd set no fire, so should be safe from discovery. Jim doubted there were really any predator animals around, and they'd not hadn't seen any that could be prey. And as the sun set even the birds seemed to stop all at once. There weren't even any sounds of insects. Just the wind and some stray echoing sound from the village below.

After dark, the lights went completely out all over the village area, which was unusual. In real life, someone usually had a fire going outside. Or there would be tiny sparks of light as people used torches to see their way around in the dark. The glow of fireplaces through windows should flicker like stars. But there was nothing. He could see inside the castle, and there was light and movement there, as if a great party was in progress. But none of the light left the castle showing people making their way home, or the movement of soldiers or troops in the dark.

_Nothing is real here. Where did the knife come from? Was it pulled in as debris, or was it pulled in with people, like we were? What were we doing, just before we were brought here? What are we supposed to be doing, besides live out some weird, corrupted plot-line from a story that most of us barely know? Earth's history is long, and we can't know all the folklore there ever was. Even that which didn't get lost in the wars, because those in power wanted them destroyed._

It made him wonder, how much of Earth's history they _thought_ they knew was actually true. And how much of it might be just as true as the fake props they'd been left with by whomever had set all this up.

_Maybe what we think we know isn't really true. And we've put all the wrong pieces together in the wrong order, when we tried to put our own literature and history back in place. Maybe the Robin Hood Chekov remembers isn't really the story the people of that time told each other for entertainment. Everything gets lost in time. Everything._

Jim looked up at the stars and noticed that even they looked wrong. They didn't twinkle like they should when seen through an atmosphere. And if they were in the nebula, there shouldn't be such an even spread. The sky from a planet in a nebula would be mostly dark, as all the rocks and gases would block the light from outside the cloud. And the moon looked strange, without the lunar cities sparkling when the sun caught them right, or making areas darker when it didn't.

_I don't even know what the moon should look like without them._

_Just another question, to add to all the important ones. Where are we and how did we get here? We didn't come by ourselves. We wouldn't have come so unprepared and clueless. Bones would never have come without his medkit, at the very least. I know he feels so helpless without it._

_Did feel. Felt._

He still couldn't believe that Bones was gone. He'd seen him die. Touched his body. But his brain kept wanting to shy away from it, because it hurt too much.

Jim rubbed at his face. He'd try to keep his eyes on the valley below, and on the stars. Somehow, somewhere, one or both held the answers he needed to get his people home. He was going to find those answers as well as find out who had killed Bones.

Then, safe at home, he could fall apart and find out if there was anything left for him to rebuild. If he even wanted to try.

 

***

 

In the early hours of dawn, Jim felt himself shaken awake. Wrapped in his cloak and lying on some dried grass, it hadn't been an uncomfortable night. The temperature had never changed. But he didn't feel like he'd really slept, either. It was more like coming out of an exhausted coma. He looked up at Uhura. She was just becoming visible in the dawn light.

"I think there's an hour until full sunrise," she said, sitting down at his right. "Sulu and Chekov reported no signs anyone tried to follow us, or any unusual activity from the village. I didn't see anything either. Just one night-long party inside the castle as far as we can tell."

"And Will?"

"Sleeping. She hasn't stirred."

"Then we'll leave in a bit. When we won't break our necks falling down this hill." He gave her a weak smile. "I know you're worried about him."

Uhura's smile was sad and she leaned against his shoulder. "Can't help it, can I? Jim? How are you doing?"

"I'm... not sure," Jim said with a sigh. If he did sleep, he didn't remember if he dreamed about Bones, and that bothered him. "It's not real to me. Not really. I can't seem to process it and I feel numb-ish. I guess I'm as functional as I need to be."

"Do you want me to make that bracelet for you now? While we have time and I have light?"

Jim nodded. Uhura pulled out her knife and got up on her knees. She combed her fingers through Jim's hair and pulled it out of its tie. It wasn't as long as Bones's had been, but it was a lot longer than he'd ever had it before. He was glad she was on the right, because he didn't want any of the white from his left side in it. Carefully, she chose a lock and cut it off. Then she opened her pouch and pulled out the carefully folded strands of Bones's hair. She worked at braiding the two locks together for a bit, then moved to his left side. He held out his arm and let her weave the strands around his wrist.

He let her work in silence. She wove a bracelet about a centimeter thick around his wrist, leaving it just tight enough to stay on, but he could slip out of it if he needed to. It's not like Starfleet would let him wear it all the time. When she was done, and all the ends were woven carefully back into the band, he lifted it up to the morning sun. He could see his own light locks contrasting with Bones's black. And in the weave strands of grey showed up here and there in the dark ones. His heart sank again, and he took a deep breath to hold himself together.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

She just nodded sadly.

"Time to get going," Jim told her as he checked the light around them. "Wake the others. 'Fresher stop, then we eat on the move. Five minutes."

"Yes, Sir," she said, getting up to follow his orders. Giving his arm a squeeze as she did so.

The trip down was uneventful, with only Will slowing them down. She was still tired, and grouchy, but she kept moving when Chekov urged her on gently. When they got within a quarter klick of the church, Jim left them behind and went the rest of the way by himself, doing his best to stay hidden. He didn't have any doubt that Spock would hear him coming. At a good vantage point, Jim stopped to let Spock come to him. In only took Spock about ten minutes to join him.

"You okay?" Jim asked

"I am well," Spock said, keeping his eyes on the church through the trees. "There has been no movement around the church, until now. I can hear someone coming up the trail."

They moved closer and positioned themselves to watch. After a few minutes, Harry Mudd came trudging up the trail. He entered the churchyard and looked around. Then entered the church. They gave it a few minutes, with Spock shaking his head at Jim's silent question. There were no sounds of anyone following Mudd. They both moved in.

"Don't mention Bones," Jim warned Spock. "We'll see how he reacts to the news, when he finds out."

Once inside, Jim waited until Spock closed the door before hollering, "Mudd?"

The door to the back room opened, and Mudd, looking tired and a bit disheveled, stared at Kirk grumpily. "There you are. Where did you all go? And who's responsible for ransacking my room?"

"Your borrowed room, you mean," Jim said with a frown. "Where have you been all day and night?"

"Spying for you. Without any thanks I see," Mudd grumbled.

"Just tell us," Jim said curtly.

Mudd seemed to be gearing up to a whine but stopped when he saw Jim's face. "Well, uh, you see Captain, I believe that part of the way to find answers to this strange play is to... go with the flow, as they say. Since I am Friar Tuck, and my role beyond helping Robin Hood to rob the rich is to tend to the poor, I can attend many areas inside the castle that Robin Hood himself could hardly be seen in. And since the next goal, according to young Will, is to rescue Maid Marian, I was able to wander around the castle grounds during the day and attempt to administer to the poor." Mudd's smile seemed to falter a bit. "Although, I'm not sure exactly what that entails, considering there seems to be no real use for currency here, so no real poor. But it seems that wandering around during the day gave me leave to stay the night."

Mudd gave them an annoyed groan. "And what a night! Music and dancing girls from all over the galaxy, who were very friendly in an... inexperienced sort of way. And the food..." Mudd sighed. "No matter what I sampled, it all tasted the same. Even the wine! And heaven only knows I'll drink anything with a kick. But this didn't even have that!"

Jim rubbed tiredly at this forehead. "What did you learn about the set up there, Harry? We don't have time for a restaurant guide."

"Oh," Mudd said, perking up. "I did see where the fair Maid Marian is being kept. She is intended to wed King Richard today, so you'll have to move soon to save her. I gather that's the plot-line Will has insisted you follow?"

"Yes, it is," Jim agreed. "Where is Marian being kept?"

"In the tower at the back, on this side. With this ridiculous forest growing right up to the wall, there's a tree your group can use to climb over the fence. Once you make your way to her chamber, you'll have to fight your way down. But once there, I can arrange to have five horses waiting for you at the gate.

Jim's warning bells went off at the number Mudd quoted.

"You couldn't get _more_ horses?" Jim asked with disappointment, watching Mudd closely.

"It's all you need, really. Well, _I_ don't need to go with you, since I can stay safe at the castle," Mudd said, shaking his head. "Maid Marian can ride with you, and young Will with one of the others."

Something in Jim's eyes told Mudd that he'd slipped up. Jim saw his reaction, and for a fraction of a second, they both knew it.

Anger filling him, Jim walked slowly up to Mudd, whose eyes went wide. He tried to back away from Jim, but soon ran his back up against the wall in the small room.

" _Five_ ," Jim said tightly, his eyes boring into Mudd's. " _Five_ horses, _five_ riders, with two passengers. Exactly the right number. Why _five_ , Harry?"

_Only five left. Forever five, not six._

Jim could see the panic on Mudd's face as the man's mind raced to think up an excuse.

"B-Because Chekov is a young man? He can certainly ride with--"

Jim reached out and grabbed the front of Mudd's habit, slamming the portly man's back against the wall.

Jim reached down and uncovered the Klingon knife at his belt. He slowly pulled it from its makeshift sheath. Mudd's eyes went even wider and Jim could feel him start to tremble.

Jim held the wicked blade up so Mudd could see it clearly. Mudd had started to sweat, his eyes fixed on the knife. Mudd spread out his arms, trying to pull away from Jim as much as he could.

" _Tell_ me, Harry," Jim said softly. "Do you _know_ who this knife belongs to?"

Mudd licked his lips, stalling for time.

"Because if you don't tell me what you _really_ know, I'm going to use it on _you_. There's a cemetery right outside, Harry. And you know what happens when you die here? In this world?" Jim leaned forward, letting his rage show as he twisted the blade in his hand so Mudd could see the shine of real metal. He whispered, "You get _put_ in that cemetery, instantly buried, with a headstone. With barely a mark on that stone to tell the world, any world, who you were. Spock and I won't even have to bury you. We'll just have to look away and all your mess will disappear. Even this blade will be wiped clean of your blood. Ask me how I know this, Harry." Jim shook him roughly. _"Ask me how I know!"_

Jim could see the man's resolve wilt, then fear take over.

"It _wasn't_ supposed to happen!" Mudd said frantically. "He just found it too tempting. He was just supposed to reconnoiter the church, see what weapons you had and report back! McCoy..." Mudd faltered. "McCoy just happened to be the last one through the door, and he couldn't resist the easy target."

_It could have been any of us, then. A roll of the dice._

"Who, Harry? _Who_?"

"Sec'K, I think he's the youngest of the three," Mudd said hastily, shaking under Jim's hand. "Three Klingons, K'Mel, Sec'K and M'Tell. They'd originally been sent in a ship to find a path through the nebula. To blaze a hidden path through the neutral zone. They took damage and ended up here, only three out of a whole crew."

"How long ago?"

"They don't know! K'Mel let it slip when he was disciplining Sec'K. They argued. I gather they've been here for quite a while. I think..." Mudd swallowed thickly. "I think they're half mad with frustration and boredom. I gather this isn't the first 'game' they've been through. That they've been playing along for some reason but have a plan to get out. Your arrival got them all excited. Maybe because we're the only real, living beings here with them, including Will."

"Are they high ranking Klingons? Is one of them their Captain?"

"K'Mel I think. Maybe not an upper echelon officer, but he outranks the other two. I couldn't be sure, and they were a bit touchy about me asking questions."

" _Who, or what,_ is running this world? How are they manipulating all of this? Creating it?"

Harry blanched then. "The _King_. King Richard. He has some sort of power. He's creating all this. Setting up this game."

"And he's playing against _us_? Us against the Klingons?"

"I think...." Harry lowered his voice and licked his lips nervously. "I think he's playing against _Will_. King Richard expected you to be at the archery tournament yesterday. Some sort of plot-line the two were following. He was really pissed that you weren't there to arrest. I gather they're playing Robin Hood, and Will's team is supposed to save Maid Marian. King Richard and the Klingons are supposed to stop you. Capture you."

"What happens if _we_ win this game?" Jim asked, letting Mudd go and backing up a step.

Mudd almost collapsed. He shrugged, hands up. "I'm not _sure_ , but from their arguing with each other, and how they tried to placate the King when you didn't follow the plot-line, I gather that they start the game over. New players arrive. Or are taken from outside. The King plays until he wins."

"And if _they_ win?"

"In that case, the Klingons seem to think that they'll get to go home. And somehow have the King with them as their ally." Mudd shook his head. "They're planning to come back to Klingon space as heroes, bringing great power with them."

_And you've been playing on their side. Hoping to go with them and talk your way out of a situation you understand once you get back. You probably have allies there, smuggling contacts. Because if **we** win and new players are brought in, then who needs us anymore? We could all disappear into graves somewhere, while the game reboots. Like a spoiled child throwing away the toys that didn't play according to its rules, and starting over with ones that do. _

"How are they manipulating the King?" Jim asked. "What are they telling him?"

"They're coaching him, filling his ears with how he can use his power _outside_ the nebula. They're telling him of all the life out there, all the civilizations and species." Mudd's voice dripped with fear. "They're trying to give him a taste for blood."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "How?"

Mudd sighed. "The Klingons keep talking to him about how satisfying killing _'real'_ beings are. That playing games with these _'fake'_ people mean nothing. That the real measure of a powerful being is how others fear them. They're telling him stories of Klingon battles. And he seems transfixed by the stories. When Sec'K came back and admitted to killing one of you, K'Mel was angry. He'd wanted to save you all for torture, once the King won the game. King Richard made Sec'K tell him over and over what had happened, how it felt."

"You know," Jim drawled, jiggling the handle of the knife in his hand, "That you're awful cozy with this King and the Klingons. I think you'd already found most of this out before we found you. And that you've spent yesterday and last night, when _we_ were searching for answers, making _plans_ with the Klingons. Waiting for us to get captured, either at the tournament or at the rescue of Maid Marian."

Mudd went stone-faced, eyes blank, watching Jim closely. "You can _think_ what you want, Captain. But you wouldn't know _any_ of this without me. And if I'd wanted you to get captured, I would have steered you to the tournament yesterday. I can still be helpful to you."

"Captain?"

Jim looked at Spock, who signaled with a nod that he wanted to talk in private.

"Don't move, Harry. I could pin you to the wall with this, if you tried to run for it. But I'm not sure I'm good enough to guarantee it'd only be a flesh wound. Haven't practiced a lot with this yet."

Mudd nodded. "I have no desire to leave, Captain. I, too, would like to make it home in one piece."

They walked to the doorway, out of Mudd's earshot.

"Captain, we clearly can't trust him," Spock said. "And I also think that time is against us. We can avoid the village, and the game, for quite a while, but it sounds improbable that the King will let us do so for long. If he does not tire of this game fairly quickly, I believe the Klingons will push to end it early."

"Or turn it into a hunt instead of a capture, where they track us down," Jim said grimly. "Hunting as a blood sport was one of the ways medieval kings entertained themselves, wasn't it?"

"I believe that it is stated as such in the Terran histories."

"And the ultimate in hunting would be to hunt something _intelligent_. Us."

"That is a logical progression of the current situation, once the Klingons are added to the equation."

"And we have _no_ chance here. An all-powerful being could find us in seconds. Could narrow the area we could hide in down to a cage. Poison our food or take it away until we starved." Jim sighed and shook his head. "Play with us until we're exhausted. We mean _nothing_ to him but entertainment. But it's pitting itself against Will, and we're just her team?"

"Will may be of the same species," Spock suggested.

Jim frowned. "I think Bones was right. She feels... young. Immature. Could she be a child of the... species? Power?"

"Admittedly, we have not seen her display any obvious powers. Her reaction to our avoiding the tournament was one of disappointment and frustration. If she is as powerful as this King is, then she could have altered the situation to make the tournament more appealing. Or changed our minds through force. As it was, she just... 'pouted' if I am using the word correctly."

"Somehow, she's important. We need to find out how."

"That may be hard to do, since she seems content to avoid all our questions, and is not afraid of us."

"And if she is mature, pushing her buttons could prove fatal." Jim shook his head. "Spock, I think our only real chance is to bypass this whole game issue, and just walk into the castle itself. Confront the King and see if maybe we can make a better bargain with it than the Klingons can."

"A very problematic option, Captain."

"I know. But I think making a move ourselves may be the only way to make a difference. You heard Mudd. If either side wins, they could restart the game and pull in new players. Either way, it sounds like this is a very temporary situation for our side. We have nowhere to go, and no way to get there." Jim looked up at Spock and saw worry in his eyes. Jim shook his head. "I'm not suicidal, Spock."

Spock blinked, looking disconcerted. "I did not mean to--"

"I know, but I wouldn't blame you if you _are_ worried. I'm _not_ myself. But I don't see any other option that makes us more than just pawns in all this. We need to present our own game and see if we can create rules more in our favor."

"I concur."

"Good. Let's get the rest of the crew together and make our march on the castle." Jim sighed. "We'll bring Mudd with us. When it comes to self-preservation, he's a master at it. Maybe we can take a cue from him, or off him, if we have to. He's like a cat, always landing on his feet. Let's use that talent for our side this time."

Jim walked up to Mudd, who watched him warily. "Harry? We're going to march to the castle and change the game."

Mudd looked surprised. He considered it for a moment. "I believe you may have something there, Captain. I look forward to seeing this plan of yours."

_I do too, Mudd. I do too._

 

***

 

Jim wished they had horses. He would have felt their march to the castle would have been more... dramatic? Impressive?

_I'm losing it. How impressed would a being with superpowers be by seeing us ride up on fake horses? Probably not much._

They made the trek back to the village as soon as Jim had given the piercing whistle that told the rest they could join them at the church. Jim had decided to get back into his Robin Hood outfit. There was no hiding from this.

Sulu, Uhura and Chekov all seemed to be in agreement to the plan. They were sharp, and Jim was sure they also realized that a showdown was inevitable. They might as well have it before they'd run themselves to exhaustion.

Will was uncertain, and almost scared. She still wouldn't talk to them and closed off even more when they told her they weren't playing anymore and were going to talk to King Richard directly. She'd crossed her arms and looked as if she'd refuse to come, but Chekov gave her a smile and promised to stay with her. She caved. Jim was glad they didn't have to tie her up and carry her. Because there was no way they could leave her behind. She was an important piece in this puzzle, they just had to figure out how she fit.

The walk to the village was uneventful. No one noticed their movements until they got to the village. Almost as one, the guards and the people nearby stopped what they were doing and turned to watched them as they walked, single file, through the crowds.

 _Definitely a surprise,_ Jim decided. _But only for a second. Now King Richard must know we're coming._

Suddenly, Will let go of Chekov's hand and raced up to Jim. She took his hand. Looking down at her, he could see she was scared and trying to hide it but seemed anxious for his attention as well.

She squeezed his hand hard, pursing her lips and scrunching up her face. She put a finger across her lips. He thought he understood the gesture.

"You're not allow to tell us anything, are you?" He asked quietly, squeezing her hand back gently. "You _physically_ can't tell us what the rules are? Give us a warning?"

She sighed and tugged on his hand twice.

_You can't. You may want to, but he's stopping you somehow. But you want to tell me something._

"If you can't talk to me about this game, can you tell me about _him?_ "

She was quiet for a moment, watching her feet as she walked. " _This_ game has no rules now. It's... paused. So, I can say some things _if_ you ask. He doesn't like to lose and gets upset and yells when he does. He always starts over and changes the rules until he wins. But he gets bored of the... the worlds... after a while. So, he starts a new game in a new world and we play that."

"How many games have you played, Will?"

She looked up at him, sadness in her eyes. "I don't know. Since I came. We've played lots and lots of games since I came."

"You were brought here?"

"We were in a... a house. The house got broken and the house came here."

"A spaceship?"

She scrunched up her face. "I don't know the word for it. I know words from all over, so I can play the games. But I don't remember which words they used for the house."

"They? Your parents? Your family?"

She nodded. "I think that's your word for them. Like the families you told me about, with the grown-ups and the children altogether. I remember the grown-ups. They were made gone, but not like McCoy. They stopped moving in the broken house, and he took them away. They never came back for the games. Then it's just me and him, until new people come. You're a _lot_ of new people this time, all at once. Mostly, it's just one or two, once in a while. Sometimes the new people are on his team, sometimes on mine. You're on mine because he got the Klingons. They came first."

"Is Will your real name?"

She shrugged. "It's my name in _this_ game. I'm really just _me_."

"Tell me, Will. The game has rules. You have rules. Does King Richard have rules?"

She nodded determinedly. "He's _not allowed_ to break them."

"And if he does?"

"They come and make him behave."

An idea came to him then, of games, children and playgrounds.

"When the other's come to play games, does the King ever... stop the real people himself? Or, like McCoy, does someone _else_ always make them stop? Kills them?"

She blinked, then looked thoughtful. "He just bosses his made-up people. And chooses the games and their rules. I don't think he's ever made a real person stop, not by himself. He plays the games and just takes the people away when they stop and are out of the game."

"And they never come back?"

"No."

"And he hasn't hurt you, by himself?"

"He tried a few times, when he lost and was really, _really_ mad. But I told on him and they made him behave."

"You _told_ on him? They _made him_ behave?"

She nodded.

"You can tell on him now?"

She frowned. "He's _not_ breaking his rules." She sighed. "They _only care_ about _his_ rules."

Jim let Will go back to Chekov. They'd reached the drawbridge, and over the moat was the gate to the castle grounds. Jim's mind was racing with the new information.

He didn't have them stop at the drawbridge but led them across it as if they owned it. No one came after them and all eyes stayed on them. It was eerie to have so many dull, lifeless eyes watch them, so Jim kept his head up and his own eyes forward.

They walked into the courtyard, across the large and elaborately decorated area, and then up the marble steps into the castle proper. The outside had looked like some kind of museum on Earth, all marble and sleek lines. The inside was huge and decorated more like something from the Roman times than the medieval. There were rows and rows of people here as well. Some were obviously soldiers or guards. The rest were dressed like the rich and royal from all kinds of different eras and locations on old Earth. All watched them advance and made no move to stop them.

At the back of the huge room was a dais, and on it a throne. A young man sat sideways on the throne, watching them with hostility. He was tall and well built, but young. Jim guessed mid to late teens if he'd been human. His dark, wavy hair spilled out under his crown, making him look rakish. His lounging on the throne told Jim that he totally owned it. Next to him, on a smaller throne, sat a young woman, dressed in medieval finery. Her flowing white dress was embroidered heavily, as was her tunic and sleeves. She had dark hair and dark eyes and watched them without emotion or movement.

_Maid Marian I presume. Just another doll in the dollhouse._

But on the other side were three Klingons. They didn't look like the heavy, forehead ridged Klingons he'd seen in vids. They weren't as blocky, or muscle-bound. They looked more human than he expected. Maybe a different race within the species. But they were real, and they were watching them all gleefully. Except for one, who stood closer to the king than the others.

_K'Mel. Who wants to be king. Or wants the king as an ally. To the Klingons that kind of power would be breathtaking. Now, to find out which of the other two is Sec'K. That must be him on the right. The man I saw after the knight's attack on Bones. He must have been the one to follow us to the church._

As they neared the dais, King Richard stood up from his throne. Jim thought his angry demeanor was for him, but King Richard now only had eyes for Will, who had left Chekov's side once again and stepped up next to Jim.

"You broke the _rules_ ," Richard hissed at her. "You _know_ the story. You know what was _supposed_ to happen next."

" _Not_ my fault," Will said, arms crossed, and feet planted. She glared back at him. "They're _real_. They do what _they_ want. I can't make them _do_ things if I can't even tell them the _rules_."

"No excuse!" Will shouted. "I _won_. I won this game because you _cheated_."

Will just glared at him.

"So, now my king," the one Jim pegged as K'Mel said with an evil smile, "we can end this game. Not that it's been much of a challenge. It would have been more _fun_ , if they'd actually had the honor of a warrior, and fought back. We could have had a few more days of entertainment out of them. But as they've given up, we could show you how to have some real excitement." K'Mel left the dais and walked to King Richard's side.

Richard turned to look at K'Mel. He suddenly smiled. "You mean torture? As you've described it before?"

"Or," Jim interrupted, putting a casual smile on his face. "What about a new game? A new way of looking at things?" Jim walked a couple of steps past Will, his hands behind his back. Well away from the Klingon knife at his waist that everyone couldn't help but see. "The Klingons are really one trick ponies, your highness. They destroy, and conquer, but never really enjoy what they win. Everyone knows that those who are conquered will one day turn the tables on those who believe themselves masters. They're really a backward people, with little creativity. Little point to their lives but making messes they can't clean up. Unlike the Federation, which is who _we_ represent."

"Your Highness!" K'Mel broke in furiously, his pointed and crooked teeth gnashing as he spoke. "This dog isn't worth pissing on. The Federation is _weak_. A group of inferior species that mewl and whine and cling together in fear of us."

"If they're so weak," Will said with disdain, "then why haven't you fought them and taken them as slaves yet?"

K'Mel looked at Will with surprise and anger. "You would dare _speak_ to me? You young piece of--"

"Shut up," Richard said with a frown.

K'Mel shut up.

_Well, K'Mel knows who's got his leash. Richard must truly be the power behind all this._

"Will's right. If you could have won your game with them, you would have started it already." Richard turned around and plunked down onto the throne. "This is _boring_. You Klingons talk too much. I won and I want to start again."

"But your _power_ , my king!" K'Mel objected. "We have talked much about what you and the Klingon Empire can accomplish! Why together--"

"Why play the game, when you can watch others play it?" Jim asked quietly. He could see he had Richard's attention. "None of the players you create dies, do they? They don't live, or have independent thoughts, right? They don't break the rules or do something surprising. They don't change the game as it goes to keep it interesting. Surprising? Why not let someone else play? Let us play for something that has some meaning to us. Something we would be willing to die for."

Jim could feel his crew staring at him. _They probably think I've lost my mind. Maybe I have._

"What are you proposing?" Richard asked, looking interested.

" _One_ game, ultimate stakes. Winner gets one wish that you grant, and the loser gets stopped." Jim smiled. "Who among us mortals wouldn't kill for _one_ wish. One of us from each side battle it out with real weapons. Real blood and pain. And you'd get to watch. Doesn't that sound more entertaining than original plan to let K'Mel and his men torture us when we lost? When we can't fight back? I heard you were interested in how one of my crewman was killed. What it was like to see someone die. Why not see it in actual, _real_ battle?"

King Richard looked intrigued. "And no cheating?"

"None on my part. You can keep tabs on the Klingons, Sire."

Using the honorific seemed to make Richard's chest swell. "Fine!"

K'Mel looked at Richard and then at Jim. He seemed about to object, but finally nodded. "I agree, Sire. May I suggest--"

" ** _I_** should set the rules, Sire," Jim added. "Only fair since I'm the one who had the idea."

Richard pondered that for a moment. Then nodded his head. "Fine, what are _your_ rules, Captain?"

"One? Combat with weapons of our own choosing. Two, that neither of us makes the killing blow. That should be _your Majesty's_ prerogative. Three, that you not intervene, in any way, so you can be surprised by the ending. And four, I fight for my side, and I choose my foe. Five, I need five minutes to prepare."

K'Mel looked at Jim speculatively, then grinned savagely. "I agree to the match."

Richard smiled. "I so decree. You have five minutes to prepare. The combat will take place on the tournament grounds."

Jim turned back to his crew who looked stunned, and was immediately surrounded, all of them talking at once.

"You can't be serious, Captain!"

"Captain, this is not a logical--"

"But the Klingons are stronger and--"

"They're a lot better at combat than we are--"

"Enough!" Jim ordered sharply, raising his hands. "We don't have a lot of time. I need to talk to Will. Spock? I don't have time, but no matter what happens, _don't_ interfere."

"Captain? Jim--"

"That's an _order_ , First Officer!"

Jim ignored the stricken looks on everyone's faces, and turned away. He went to Will, took her arm and gently led her to the side.

_Damn it, I should have asked for more time! But if I did, the Klingons would get suspicious._

"Why are you doing this?" She asked, looking upset and almost in tears. "They'll stop you! Then you'll get gone!"

"Because my people would lose either way, if we played the game." Jim looked her in the eye. "He makes sure he always wins, right?"

Pursuing her lips, she nodded.

"And he sets the rules here, but he has rules of his own."

She nodded again.

"Rules that he can't break, no matter what?"

She nodded again.

"Will, listen to me, because I have a plan."

Will leaned forward, and Jim spelled it out for her. He kept it simple.

Will looked at him, eyes wide, and finally nodded.

Suddenly, the five minutes were up, and Jim found himself in the middle of the tournament field. The change was so sudden that he felt dizzy.

He was now outdoors, on the grass, in the middle of a large circle of people. To one side was the dais and King Richard and the Klingons. He turned and behind him he saw Spock, Sulu, Uhura, Chekov and Mudd standing with Will. His people were watching him with concern, but he held up a hand, a signal to Spock to follow his orders.

He turned back to the dais and walked up to it. He bowed to the king. "I am ready, your highness."

The King grinned savagely, delight in his eyes. "First, choose your weapon."

Jim drew out the Klingon knife. "I choose the _d'k t ahg_."

Jim saw the surprise and delight in the Klingon's eyes. They were born with those weapons in their hands. They knew how to use them.

"And your foe?"

Jim looked grimly at the three. "Sec'K. The Klingon coward."

"Coward?!" The Klingon Jim had pegged as Sec'K stepped forward, pulling out another d'k tahg. He was angry and insulted, just like Jim wanted him to be. "There is no shame in putting down a _useless_ dog. I proved your _weakness_. You couldn't even protect yourselves. What kind of a Captain can't even protect his own crew?"

"A knife in the _back_? From behind cover?" Jim hefted his knife in his hand, adjusting it to his grip as he glared at Sec'K. "Did you even tell K'Mel that? Or did you lie and tell him you'd caught McCoy alone and he fought back? You're a _coward_ , Sec'K. You have shamed yourself and killed my mate. The shame I will leave you with, but for the last I will make you _suffer_."

Sec'K smiled and came at him, knife held to the side. Jim jumped back and deflected the blade with his own as the Klingon swung at his ribs. They both took a defensive stance, bodies crouched and knives at the ready.

Jim moved first, feinting left while reaching right, and caught the Klingon on his right shoulder. The wound went deeper than Jim had hoped it would, since the leathers the Klingon wore were a fake as everything else. Sec'K looked surprised at the failure of his armor and the score by Jim.

In his Robin Hood costume, Jim didn't even have the illusion of protection.

The next few minutes were a blur of movement, and Jim let his training take over. He twisted and turned, thrust and parried and once rolled out of the way. He kept the knife between him and the Klingon, taking slashes here and there while making defensive moves. He scored the Klingon as well, who was concentrating on fatal blows while Jim nicked him here and there on his arms and legs. He managed to stab a foot as the Klingon passed by him, and the Klingon roared in anger. Jim knew if he tried something too disabling for the Klingon, a torso blow, he'd be in the Klingon's range as well. He needed to drag this out as long as possible.

Jim didn't know how long they fought after that. But as blood and sweat dripped down him, Jim could feel his strength waning. Sec'K had nicked Jim on his forehead, and he brushed the blood from his eye. This kind of fighting was a Klingon game. They were made for it, had more stamina than a human. Spock may have been able to take him down, but Jim didn't have the strength for it anymore. He wanted Sec'K angry enough to land a blow on Jim that could be fatal in the long run, but not immediately.

Knowing he couldn't fight much longer, Jim saw his chance. When Sec'K's knife flashed toward his ribs, Jim didn't avoid it. He felt it when the knife hit a rib and bounced, cutting what felt like a five-centimeter deep line through him from his front to his back. The blow jolted him and he landed on his knees, feeling his blood start to pour out of him. Sec'K came toward him, glee in his eyes as he raised his knife to finish Jim off.

Jim held up his hands and dropped the d'k tahg. His left arm tried to fall back down, as the severed tissue on his left failed him. He heard his crew behind him gasp and murmur in panic behind him.

"I _surrender_ to the King!" Jim said loudly, grimacing as the pain of that blow, and of the many small ones, seemed to hit him all at once.

Sec'K made a move for him, but King Richard was on his feet in a second and Sec'K froze in place at the lift of Richard's hand.

"Kill him, Sire!" K'Mel said joyfully. "Take the blood of your kill, and revel in the heat of it."

King Richard strode toward Jim, eyes on him, a smile on his face. He bent to pick up Jim's dropped blade, holding it like he was surprised at its weight.

"My first," Richard said with a happy grin.

"But not your last," K'Mel promised. "There is a whole universe out there, Sire, where the games are not false, and the honor true. When you come back with us, you will see all that for yourself."

King Richard smiled at Jim, then raised the knife, ready to make a swinging blow across Jim's neck.

"No!" Will yelled.

Holding his position, although losing the battle of holding up his left arm, Jim could hear her run up behind him.

"You _can't!_ " Will yelled angrily.

"Shut up!" King Richard shouted at her, frozen in his striking position. "It's _my_ game. I can do _anything_ I want!"

"No! You _can't_! **I'm** **TELLING**!" After that last word, Will started a loud, shriek. Her voice started out low, then rose higher and higher in pitch until it was like a rumbling siren. It didn't stop, as if Will had all the breath in the world.

It got so loud that Jim, through his wince, could see King Richard yelling, and throw the knife away from himself in anger, but he couldn't hear him.

Then, suddenly, Will's inhuman shriek stopped. Jim blinked, and looked around.

He wasn't in the game anymore. He turned his head and saw his crew, along with Mudd, in a group behind him. Bones and Will were not there. His crew and Mudd were looking around in shock. The rest of the village, and the fake people, were gone. Jim tried to stand but found he couldn't. He could turn his head and look around, but that was all.

This world was dead and the sky dark. The small sun in the distance shone weakly, and the light was like that of Earth on a dark and cloudy day. The ground under Jim's knees was dry and cracked. The landscape flat and lifeless.

But around them all, in random piles and building-sized chunks of metal, was a ship's graveyard. There were all sizes and colors. Some were marked with symbols he'd seen before, and some were strange to him. The mixture of jutting and low-lying silhouettes in the distance told him that there must be hundreds of spaceship bits and pieces in the distance, in all directions around him.

_This is where he got all the information for his games. He must have drained the broken computers and databases for information. Came across all kinds of literature and histories. With none of them complete, and no way to know the difference between the two._

_That's why nothing was right. They were children playing with realities they'd never experienced. Who'd never felt real fire, or been burned by it. Or knew how real fruit tastes. Or how living people act._

Sec'K was still frozen off to one side. The other two Klingons frozen in place behind him,

"It's not _fair_!" King Richard yelled to the sky. "This is _my_ world, and I get to do what I _want_."

Looking up, Jim could see two strange, green glowing lights float down to them. They were bright and pulsing against the dark sky as they came nearer, to hover close above the group.

A masculine voice rumbled around them.

"This has gone far enough, Trelane! No more."

"But you always stop me just when I'm having _fun_!"

"You've been disobedient and cruel," the masculine voice said sternly. "The rules are there for a reason, and we expect you to abide by them. You have had your warnings, so now you must come home."

"No! _No_! I want to stay here and play!" Trelane stomped his feet. "You _said_ I could."

"Trelane," the other bright cloud pulsed and said in a feminine voice. "It's time to come home. We have discussed this before. You knew the rules."

"But I wasn't doing _anything_!" Trelane whined. "I wasn't _really_ going to kill him. It doesn't count if I just _pretend_ to!"

"Trelane! _Enough_!" the male voice demanded. "Come home _now_ , or we will not let you out to play again."

Trelane wilted, looking downcast. "Can she come too?"

"No," the feminine voice said. "If you can't take care of your pets, you can't have them."

" _Fine_." Trelane said with anger. He threw a dark look behind Jim, where Jim couldn't see. "I _hated_ playing with you anyway. Tattletale!"

As he watched, Trelane faded into a small green ball that pulsed and glowed like the other two. It then sped away into the sky, followed by the female. Jim watched them disappear and looked at the one light left. The one with the masculine voice.

"Our son is willful and will be disciplined," The deep voice promised him.

Suddenly, Jim felt all the cuts on his body heal, including the one on his ribs. He stood and turned. Behind him, on the dry ground, was a young Symmetrillion. Her skin was green and shiny, looking out of place on the deathly dry ground. Her deep golden eyes looked up at him. Jim thought she looked scared.

He walked to her, bent down and picked her up, holding her close. She felt jell-like and damp. Her limbs grabbed at his clothing and she pressed close.

"He will not be allowed to return to this nebula. You are all free to go."

Jim remembered then, where they'd been when they'd been taken. No wonder the word _scout_ sounded familiar. He heard the others walk up behind him, Spock at one side, Sulu on the other. Jim nodded at the parent and raised a hand.

"We have lost one of our own," Jim said quietly. "I'd like to take him home as well."

The father's voice came out in an annoyed grumble. "You _chose_ to be out here, to invade places in the universe where you do _not_ belong. Your fates are your own. Remember that, if you wish to continue infesting the universe as you do. There will _always_ be a price to pay for knowledge and trespassing."

The parent seemed to turn toward the Klingon's who were still frozen.

Then the world blinked out again.

 

***

 

Jim was suddenly floating, the inside of a ship rotating quickly around him. There were others floating around him. Startled, Jim had to push someone’s foot out of his face. The view screen showed a tumbling view of the nebula. They were outside of it and moving away fast.

"We’re in _The Scout_!" Jim yelled as he recognized the rotating interior. "Grab on! Buckle in!"

Jim grabbed at the top of the pilot’s chair as it rotated past and pulled himself around. He pulled himself into it and slammed the seatbelt control. He leaned back for a fraction of a second to let the chair secure him in. Then grabbed the controls as Sulu settled in next to him.

"We’re out of the nebula!" Sulu shouted as Jim struggled to slow the roll of the ship, so the computers could get a reading of their location.

Jim worked on getting the ship stable while Sulu got their coordinates.

"Warning!" Spock announced. "Gravity."

Jim felt his ass hit the seat and his body weight return as Spock got the ship’s internal gravity back on. As their rotation slowed, Jim got a glimpse of the Enterprise and the _Amara_ in the distance. They weren’t too far away.

"Uhura! Contact the ship."

Scotty’s voice came over the speakers as Jim and Sulu finally got _The Scout_ stabilized. "Captain? Are ye okay? Can ye make it back to the ship?"

"Give us a minute, Scotty," Jim replied, then turned to Sulu. "Check out the ship, make sure we weren’t damaged before Trelane grabbed us. I don’t think his parents would have done us any favors and fixed things."

"Aye, Sir."

Jim turned to look behind him. He saw Uhura and Chekov buckled in. Chekov was holding Will on his lap. His heart sank as the split second of hope he’d tried not to acknowledge died.

_Five and not six. Five and Will._

As he adjusted the controls and headed toward the Enterprise, he gave himself a few seconds to check his left hand. His ring was back, just as his hair was short and his face smooth again. They'd left him the bracelet Uhura had woven. They’d given him back the little things, but not what he needed the most.

"Captain!" Scotty’s voice boomed through the ship. "Hold on! We have to tractor you in! We have incoming!"

 _The Scout_ lurched as the Enterprise grabbed the smaller ship with the tractor beam and they were pulled closer.

"Captain," Spock announced, "there is a very large mass of metallic debris coming out of the nebula at a high speed. I believe they are pieces of the missing ships. One of them is Klingon."

Jim looked at the screens, he recognized the shape of some of the debris from the planet. Trelane's parents had cleaned house.

"Scotty! Red Alert!" Jim yelled. "That Klingon ship may still be armed!"

"We’re almost inside the Enterprise's defense shields," Sulu said.

"Captain?" Scotty asked. "The sensors say the Klingon ship is dead. No life and no engines or power. Nothing left to shoot at anyone and it’s not goin’ anywhere on its own. But there _is_ one life sign on one of the smaller ships."

"Grab that ship!" Jim ordered. "The one with the life signs. I’ll bet anything that’s Harry Mudd! Corral the other ships and as much debris as you can, so they don't fly off. There are a lot of families that need to know what happened to their loved ones. And I’m sure that Starfleet would like to have a look at that Klingon ship. Open the bay doors. I’ll dock _The Scout_."

"Aye, Captain. Gettin’ it done. Doctor M'Benga wants to know if you need emergency response?"

Jim took a breath. "Tell M’Benga that we’re one short, and we have a young Symmetrillion on board. She’ll need a moisture-rich environment until we can get her aboard the _Amara_. The rest of us are fine."

"Sir?" Scotty's voice was concerned. "One short?"

"Just pass the word, Scotty," Jim said shortly.

"Aye, Sir."

"Everyone, get ready to disembark and head to the bridge," Jim ordered woodenly. "Scotty may need help with the cleanup."

The docking took only a few minutes, Jim finding a place for the ship facing the outer hull of the Enterprise. They’d need center space on the shuttle bay for some of the debris. Jim sighed as the feet of _The Scout_ touched down. He shut the metal cover over the viewscreen, enclosing the cockpit. He closed his eyes and leaned back, listening as the others shut systems down and got ready to head to the bridge. Behind him, Will squealed excitedly and Uhura murmured something to her in her native language. He hoped Will still remembered it. He couldn't blame her for being excited about going home.

This was reality now. No more games.

The urge to lift off again once everyone else was off _The Scout_ was almost overpowering. All he wanted to do was to head back out into that grinder of an asteroid belt and find that planet. No matter how long it took him.

_He’s back there. On that planet, somewhere in that nebula. How can I leave him there?_

The thought made him sick. He desperately needed to take care of Bones's remains. Make sure he was with their family on Deneva. It's what they'd talked about, one long, dark night when they couldn't sleep. Before, Jim hadn't cared where his body would end up. They could space it for all he cared. But he'd found himself feeling anxious about Bones's body. They'd joked about how Bones didn't like to be cold and didn't like space the way Jim did. So, they'd both decided to be cremated on Deneva and buried in the Memory Gardens in the forest, near the hotel where they'd spent their honeymoon. All within a day's travel to the location where they'd buried the seed-studded vests from their wedding.

Then, if there really was to be any rest for either of them, it'd be together and with family.

_He’d bust my balls if he knew I wanted to take this ship back out to find him. He’d hate that it would cost me the Enterprise and my command. He'd tell me that it's not **him** , just his body. That my memories are what's important. But he's not here to stop me now. How can I fail in this one, last thing I can do for him? For us both? _

_Isn't that worth a career? My sanity?_

He heard Uhura and Chekov leave the ship, carrying Will with them. Sulu followed after giving Jim's shoulder a quick, sympathetic squeeze. Jim didn’t move, his eyes closed. Spock's concerned voice came from the back of the ship, near the exit.

"Captain?"

"I _can’t_ ," Jim said after taking a big breath, his eyes closed. He was so _tired_. "You and Scotty can handle this. I need some… time."

"Jim? Are you sure you should be alone?"

" _Go_ , Spock. Help Scotty with Mudd’s ship. We need to get him under control before he gets away and into more trouble. And we need to make sure Will gets to her people okay. I’ll… follow later… You don’t need me for this."

There was quiet for a moment and Jim could almost feel Spock's hesitance. He could hear the exit door open and some excited muttering behind him. Probably Spock giving orders to the deck crew. Hopefully, to leave him be for a while. Then the door slid shut.

_How do I even find him? Maybe I can check The Scout’s location readings and get an idea. Unless Trelane just let it drift far away from—_

"Jim?"

Jim startled. The soft voice giving his heart a jump start like a hit from a taser. He gasped as if he were oxygen starved and his eyes flew open. But he found himself frozen in his chair, faced toward the metal covered viewscreen.

He was afraid to move, or think.

"Jim?" Bones's voice was close behind him. Jim could hear an uncertain step. Bones's voice was low, deep with that bit of Georgia he used when he was trying to be comforting. "It’s _okay_. I’m _okay_. I’m really _here_."

"Bones?" Jim replied in a strangled whisper. His chest was tight as the tears returned and his heart continued to race. He clenched the armrests tightly and closed his eyes again.

"Hey, Kid? You can turn around. It's just me."

Tears continued, and he took another deep breath.

"I’m _afraid_ ," he admitted around a surprised sob. "What if you’re **not** really here? What if I’m insane because I need you _so much_?"

Jim felt the air change as someone came up behind him. They leaned down and strong arms wrapped around Jim's shoulders, pulling him further back against the seat. Jim’s sobs broke as warm breath ruffled the hair at his temple and a kiss was placed there.

" _Love_ ya, Kid. _Forever_."

In one motion Jim released the restraining belts and threw himself to his feet. He turned and grabbed Bones, jerking him away from the chair and into his arms. He buried his face in Bones's neck as they both pulled each other in tight. Jim took a huge breath, trying to take in his husband's familiar scent.

_He's **here**. Oh, God... _

Jim sobbed and tried to wrap himself around Bones. Bones murmured soft words into his ear and his hands rubbed at Jim's back. Bones's heart pounded against Jim's chest. Jim sobbed so hard he wasn’t sure what Bones was saying. But the body in his arms, the hands at his back, the neck that he buried his face in and left his tears on, _that_ was man he loved.

He didn't know how long he stood there, crying, while hanging on for dear life. Finally, he felt he could breathe again.

"Where have you _been_?" Jim asked thickly when he could finally get some control. He pulled away enough to look into Bones's concerned face. Bones's hair was short again, but his eyes were alive and watching him closely. Jim grabbed his face and kissed him. At the taste of him, Jim felt like he would collapse with the relief of it.

They broke the kiss and Bones looked at him sadly, then leaned to touch his forehead to Jim's. " _God_. I’m so _sorry_ , Jim. I just couldn’t… I _tried_ … but the wound was fatal, and I couldn't have done anything, even if it had been someone else. I didn't _want_ to leave."

Bones pulled Jim in for another hug. His voice was thick in Jim’s ear, full of regret and his own unshed tears. "I woke up inside some kind of ‘game over' room, I think. I could see what was happening to you once Trelane's parents arrived. I don’t think Trelane was allowed to actually kill anyone himself. So, I was stuck in that room, or universe, or whatever. Then you all disappeared, and I was just... here... in our quarters. I commed Scotty but you'd just docked, and he was confused about me being on board already. So, I came straight over rather than take the time to explain it to him."

"When you weren’t on _The Scout_ , after the parents kicked us out..." Jim sighed. "I had no hope left."

" _I'm so sorry!_ " Bones said. Those wonderfully expressive eyebrows telling Jim all kinds of things at once, such as his regret and his sadness over Jim's ordeal.

Jim found himself smiling weakly and rubbed at his wet face. "It's okay now. Your return saved Starfleet one costly shuttle."

Bones blinked, then looked at Jim sternly. "You _weren't_ going to try to--"

"Was thinking about it," Jim said with an exhausted shrug. "How could I _not_?"

"Out _there_? In that _mess_? James Tiberius Kirk," Bones said with a touch of chiding in his voice, "you _know_ I wouldn't have wanted you--"

"I know. You were already trying to argue me out of it, in my head. But you're here now, so you won this round. Just... don't do it again. _Please_."

The corner of Bones's mouth turned into a reluctant smile. "Don't plan on it. Now, let's get you dried off and on the bridge, so you can make sure your ship's okay before you check out for a while. So, we _both_ can."

"I _do_ need to check in," Jim admitted reluctantly, reaching up to hold Bones's face in his hands. "Then I need some quality time with you, Old Man."

Bones smiled. "C'mon. You need to be the Captain for a few more minutes."

Bones opened the emergency supplies and dug out some tissues for Jim. Jim knew the crew could tell he’d been upset, but he didn’t care.

"Ready?"

Jim nodded and followed Bones through the door. "Do the others know you're here?"

Bones nodded. "They saw me on the run to get to you. Uhura and I had a split-second hug. Sulu gave me a thumbs up. Chekov had his arms full of an excited Symmetrillion. Spock spoke to me at the door. Happened pretty fast, but they saw me."

" _Good_ ," Jim said with feeling, "then I just have to explain this all to Scotty."

They walked through the busy shuttle bay. Jim saw the bay doors were open to space, with just the force field to keep the contents in and space out. Groups of men were scrambling as large pieces of metal were brought in and space found to place them. They couldn't fit even a hundredth of the debris cloud inside the ship, but Jim could trust Scotty to cherry pick the best pieces.

"What did Trelane's parents do?" Bones asked. He watched the busy shuffle of crewmen at work as he and Jim walked through it all. "Clean house?"

"Or closed up the playground," Jim said. "If Trelane ever goes back there, he won't have his toys to play with anymore. But this area of space is going to look like a ship's graveyard for quite a while."

"What about Mudd?" Bones asked as they strode down the corridor to the nearest lift. Once inside, Bones put his arm behind Jim's shoulders, hand at the base of his neck. Jim closed his eyes for a moment. It helped him focus on his ship again.

"I think we've got him on board by now. In Security if Spock's on the ball," Jim replied, giving himself a mental shake. "I think if we search his ship, we're going to find the contraband he was trying to smuggle from one of the Klingon's subject worlds."

"Enough for some real jail time?" Bones asked as the lift took them to the bridge.

"Maybe." Jim shrugged. "Or maybe someone makes him a deal for information about that area. Hell, he could be a Federation or Klingon spy, or both, and have us all fooled."

"He always does seem to be able to talk his way out of trouble. Like someone else I know." Bones released his grip on Jim's neck just before the bridge door opened.

The bridge was busy, but Scotty stopped what he was doing at the call of 'Captain on the Bridge'.

"Ah, Captain!" Scotty said happily from across the bridge. "Here ye be! Everythin’ seems to be going well and we have slowed down a lot of the bigger bits, to browse at our leisure. The Symmetrillions are rounding up the rest, as they can. Everyone's excited about finding out what happened to some of their lost ships!"

"And you're raring to dig in and browse, am I right?" Jim asked with what smile he could muster.

As Scotty came closer, he suddenly looked concerned. Jim realized he really did look like a mess. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Uhura leave her station and come to give Bones a huge hug, raising some eyebrows around the room. When she noticed Jim looking, she gave him a huge smile and a happy nod. Her ponytail bounced behind her as she returned to her station. Sulu and Chekov gave Bones happy grins.

"You okay?" Scotty asked with concern and confusion as he studied Jim's face. "Mr. Spock said that we had the full crew back and you weren't one short anymore?"

"Things got a bit... rough," Jim admitted with a nod. Jim could see that every cell in the man's body was desperate to be down in the bay when the scraps came in. "But we'll catch you up later. I have the bridge now, so head on down to the docking bay and start browsing for the good stuff. You know everyone will want detailed reports."

"Aye, Captain. On my way!" Scotty's grin was instant and infectious. He almost danced his way to the lift.

"Many of the Symmetrillion ships are on their way to the area, Captain," Spock said as he came to stand by Jim and Bones. "Some of this debris will help to answer many questions. And there looks to be many types, from many species. Some of them quite old."

"So, we may end up with more questions than answers," Bones said with a shake of his head. "Maybe some families can rest easier now, if they’re still waiting for missing loved ones."

"Agreed," Spock said casually. He then lowered his voice for only the three of them. "And as I said before, Leonard, it is very agreeable to have you return. Welcome aboard."

Bones sobered, his appreciation for Spock's welcome clear. "I... thanks, Spock. I'm sorry I... scared everyone."

"It is a waste of time to be sorry for something that you had no control over," Spock said with a dismissive tilt of his head. "Now, I believe your job is to see to the condition of the Captain. I don't believe there is anything that needs his services for the next day or so. We seem to have a lot of... grunt work, as I believe you call it. I will certainly contact you if anything unexpected happens."

"Mr. Spock, I think you've read both our minds," Jim said with a crooked smile. "You're getting very good at that. Get Chekov, Sulu and Uhura out of here as soon as you can. They need the time off as well. Don't overdo it yourself, and that's an order."

Spock tilted his head in agreement. "One question, Captain? The disposition of Harry Mudd? He was indeed beamed out of the ship that broadcast the distress signal. He is now in the brig. And, apparently, very verbally expressive in his displeasure at his new situation."

"I want the remains of Mudd's ship searched," Jim said. "I believe he was trying to smuggle something in from the Klingon Empire. Find out what it is. Let him stay in the brig until we find out what he was up to. He may have to get used to being there until we get back to a space station, depending on what we find."

"And Will?" Bones asked.

"She is being checked out by M'Benga, and will be beamed aboard the Amara within the hour, so I'm told. She is very anxious to be with her own people."

"Good. I'm glad. You have the Con." Jim felt relieved to say it.

He turned back to the lift with Bones. The walk back to their cabin was done in silence, Jim tense, feeling like he was going to explode. They were on late Beta shift now, and the lights were just starting to dim for the evening. Jim felt like he'd been awake for a week. He put his arm behind Bones's back, and his hand on Bones's shoulder as they headed home.

 

 

 

***

 

McCoy was not surprised when, as soon as the door sealed them into their cabin, Jim had him pressed up against the wall and trapped there.

McCoy could feel the tenseness in Jim’s body. McCoy pulled him in even closer.

"I’m here," McCoy whispered, his nose in the white stripe as Jim took a gulp of air. "We’re both _okay_."

"But you _weren’t_ ," Jim said miserably, his voice muffled as he nuzzled McCoy’s hair. Jim’s hand forced itself between him and McCoy, sliding under McCoy’s shirt and down into the top of his pants. McCoy relaxed against the wall, spreading his legs further apart to let Jim have whatever access to his body that he wanted. Jim’s touch was insistent and gentle at the same time, working McCoy with fingers that knew how to get him hard. Hard and wanting.

"Want you _inside_ me," Jim said against McCoy’s cheek as he rubbed their faces together, cheek against cheek, nose against nose, until Jim’s lips finally found his and they opened to McCoy’s.

McCoy’s hands framed Jim’s face as Jim pushed his uniform pants down and away from McCoy’s growing erection while they kissed deeply.

Jim shifted to the side, to give his hand more room to slide over McCoy’s cock and balls, rubbing, tugging and gently skimming all of his sensitive places. But as Jim pressed his own crotch against McCoy's hip, McCoy couldn’t help but be aware that Jim wasn’t aroused. McCoy couldn’t even feel the beginnings of a stir from Jim through the fabric between them.

 _Should I stop him?_ McCoy wondered, breathless now from his own building desire. _If he really doesn’t want this—_

"No," Jim said in a thick whisper as if reading his mind. "I _want_ this. I _need_ this. I need _you_."

Jim never lied to him.

McCoy pushed any feelings of guilt to the back of his mind, and concentrated on Jim’s unspoken wants and desires, reading his body language in a way he could never read anyone else’s. Soon, Jim pushed McCoy’s pants the rest of the way down and went to his knees.

Jim’s hot mouth on his cock drove everything out of McCoy's mind. His world narrowed down to the loving heat and hot, wild tongue. Jim worked him, playing all his nerves in an electric symphony of pleasure, lust and wild glory until McCoy could only gasp in response. Splayed against the wall, his legs starting to tremble, Jim suddenly stopped.

Jim stood and McCoy moaned, his cock throbbing with the loss of the beautiful friction.

Jim stripped his shirt off of him. "Inside me," Jim said breathlessly. "I want you inside me, riding me hard. I want to feel it all day tomorrow."

He pulled off his own shirt and kicked off his shoes. Then started on his own pants. McCoy clumsily pulled off his clothing as Jim stripped completely.

Jim was still flaccid. McCoy thought he should argue, to say he could wait, but he didn’t want to. He could see that Jim didn’t want to wait either.

_Jim wouldn't lie to me, about what he wants. What he feels he needs._

They made it to the bed in a tangle of kisses and limbs. McCoy followed Jim’s lead as Jim placed a pillow under his hips and presented his ass to McCoy. McCoy prepared him carefully, one hand on the small of Jim’s back as he pressed and massaged lube into him.

" _Gorgeous_ man," McCoy murmured in the drawl he knew Jim enjoyed. "So _striking_ , even all beat to hell and bloody, the way I first saw you. And not just your body, either. But your bearing, your demeanor. Open and caring, even for a ratty drunk who’d seen better days. Look people in the eyes, like you’re looking to know them, even if only for a few minutes. And so damned smart..." McCoy chuckled softly. "Genius. Brain like a sponge. Takes in everything. Makes Spock work to keep up. Makes us all work to keep up."

McCoy could feel Jim relaxing under the tender words and gentle touches, his swollen eyes still spoke of shed tears, but they were half closed now, enjoying McCoy’s attention. Listening to his words and finding something soothing in them. McCoy continued his careful ministrations, ignoring his own cock.

" _Sweet_ thing. So full of love, you just never knew how to spend it all," McCoy crooned. "Knew you were special when I met you. Couldn’t believe you’d give a shit about me. A man going places, hanging out with a man who’d been places and gotten lost? What the hell could we have in common? But I fell in love with you anyway. And you were too important for me to mess up what we had. I never dared hope it could be more than friendship between us. But there you go, loving me anyway. Making me need you, any which way I can get you. Any damn way I can have you."

" _Now_ , Bones. _Now_ ," Jim demanded softly, relaxed and loose under McCoy's hands.

McCoy prepped himself, and moved into position, pressing the head of his cock to Jim’s entrance.

"You _loved_ me back. Became my _family_ ," McCoy said as he pressed in carefully, watching Jim for any reaction of pain. He paused. Jim took a breath and pushed back, opening him up to McCoy’s penetration. " _Family_ , forever. No matter what else happened."

McCoy slowly pushed in a bit more, holding back on the urge to push hard into the hot depths of him. Then moved a bit more as he felt Jim relax under him. "Became more than that, even if I was afraid of it," McCoy said around his own ragged breathing.

Jim moaned deeply as McCoy became fully seated, balls against ass.

" _Love_ you," McCoy murmured into the back of Jim’s shoulders. He put his whole weight on Jim and just held his place. " _Always_ did. _Always_ will. No matter _what."_

_Always at your back, which is what you want. What you need. Someone to claim you and care for you as you tornado your way through this life. Because we all know how cold and lonely space can be. Even though you love it, you don’t ever want to be alone. And I never want you to be. Not if I can help it._

"Make me _feel_ it," Jim begged as he shifted his rear, starting a friction between them that McCoy wouldn’t be able to ignore for much longer. "Make me _know_ you’re here, _safe_ , even when I can’t see you."

McCoy’s thrusts started slowly, then built up in speed and depth. He was gentle for a while, in the endless slide in and out of his lover, watching all of Jim’s signals, ready to stop any time Jim wasn’t enjoying it. They went on like that for a while, both of them only speaking in tremors and moans, gasps and hums, until McCoy stopped thinking and was only reacting to Jim’s responses. The thrusting got hard toward the end, McCoy reaching that point where his desperation to reach his climax made him strain with it.

When he came, he saw stars. His body locked around Jim’s so hard he wondered if Jim could breathe.

"‘Kay?" McCoy asked breathlessly as the last of his climax pulsed weakly, having emptied himself deep into Jim. "Okay?"

Under him, Jim pulled in a deep breath and sighed contentedly. "More than okay. _Wonderful_. Stay."

McCoy settled his weight a bit more comfortably on Jim’s back. There was something Jim liked about holding McCoy down, being held down by him. It was something McCoy suspected Jim had avoided with his other lovers. McCoy knew Jim had never tended to want to sleep with any of them. And he only cuddled with those he could trust not to make the act mean more than a simple one-night-stand. But with McCoy, Jim had always been different.

_Hold each other down, so we can’t drift away. He’s my anchor. I’m his._

When McCoy finally pulled out, he tried not to fuss with Jim. He knew he’d been rough and Jim could be sore. But that wasn’t the kind of attention Jim wanted right now.

He also knew Jim hadn’t gotten erect, aroused, or climaxed.

He tried not to worry about that, either.

They cleaned up and crawled back into bed. Jim draped himself on McCoy, and they both found their comfort positions.

They lay there in the darkness for a while. Both knowing the other was awake. McCoy waited to see if Jim wanted to talk or not, rubbing Jim’s back to let him know he wasn’t asleep.

McCoy didn’t know how long they'd lain there when Jim pulled in a big breath and said, "We should quit."

"Quit what?" McCoy’s hand kept up the slow trail up Jim’s back and ribs.

"Quit Starfleet. Go and live on Deneva," Jim said softly into his neck, the dark keeping his words close and personal against McCoy’s skin. "You can always find a job there. I can find something. Then we’d be there all the time to see our family. Adopt a houseful of kids of our own. Grow grey and see our kids grow up and live their lives. Maybe have grandkids someday. Have a dog _and_ a cat and weekend parties in our huge backyard. Live safe."

McCoy sighed. "Now, don’t take this the wrong way, Jim. I fully intend for _all_ that to happen. But I don’t think you’re through with the universe yet."

"I’m willing to give it up for—"

" _Not_ asking you to," McCoy said, giving him a squeeze. "When I ask you to, I promise I’ll _mean_ it and you’ll damn well _know_ it. There comes a time when one of us says it, then that’s what we’ll do."

"Bones. You _died_. I’m _saying_ it."

"You’re saying it _now_ , and I have no doubt you’re serious," McCoy countered gently. "Like every time you get hurt, or have a close call, and I tell myself, _‘That’s it. No more.’_ I mean it _then_ , too. But I give it a little time and realize all over again how important what we do out here is. Someone has to be out here, exploring, protecting, and making all the species behave, so our family can live safe where they are. Someone has to be out in the black, watching over our families and all the other families out there."

McCoy moved the arm under Jim, reaching around further so he could touch that ridiculous white stripe and flick that sensitive earlobe as Jim moved his head up. McCoy ignored Jim’s snort of protest over the ear flick.

"You’re _needed_ out here, Jim. _This_ is where your talents lie, where you long to be. No matter how much you love me, or your family, or our future kids, you’d end up feeling stifled. Because your shift isn’t over. You wouldn’t mean to, but it’d be an itch you could never quite scratch and it’d show after a while. A job left undone to eat away at you. Just the way I’d feel if I took a planet or station-side job and left you on your own. _This_ is my job, _my_ place, and I’m still on call and feel it, just like you do. We’re _supposed_ to be here, Jim. For a while yet."

"You sound so _sure_ ," Jim said with a sigh as he settled back down. "We may never make it to that life on Deneva."

"But we’ll give it our best shot. And if we go down, we’ll be able to say so."

"That it was _fun_ ," Jim said sadly, echoing McCoy’s last words.

"Because it’ll be true, in the larger sense. Even if the details suck at times," McCoy said around a sudden yawn. "Jim? Just give it a few days, then we can talk about it again. If you change your mind about leaving and want to stay in this life, you can always let me know by saying those magic words."

"What magic words?" Jim asked.

"Time for a _vacation_ ," McCoy said with a chuckle. "Because even if we want to stay, we do need our breaks. And it seems a shame to see the universe from out here in the black, but never get to visit it up close. If we quit, we won’t get to use all that vacation time we’ve been saving."

Jim was quiet for a while, but McCoy could feel he was settling in for sleep. "I’ll think about it some more."

"Do that," McCoy agreed. "And when you decide, for sure, I’ll hear you and _that's_ what we'll do. I just want you to be sure. No regrets."

It took McCoy awhile to fall asleep, but they were still holding each other when they did.

 

***

 

 _Leonard McCoy. Plague Doctor. I wonder if a PD after my name would get me more respect?_ McCoy wondered, ending his CMO's log while eyeing his messy desk. _I have a feeling Starfleet Medical would frown on the idea. They may be deathly scared of plagues, but they don't want everyone to be as freaked out about them as we are. Some things it's better not to spend a lot of time worrying about, when you're as prepared as you can be. And you know it'll never be prepared enough._

But there were some things he didn't believe you could prepare for. Like death. And after last night, Jim had him worried. They'd just had the one night together before jumping back into the mess Trelane's parents had kicked out of the nebula. They hadn't had a chance to talk about it in depth. McCoy got the feeling that Jim was still processing his feelings. Just because McCoy wasn't dead, didn't mean he hadn't died in front of him. Hadn't said their goodbyes. And McCoy had been dead longer than Jim had.

_He's got a lot to process. Maybe this is when he really does decide he's done with Starfleet and the stress of being responsible for all these lives. And he knows he could lose me again, because if he's out here, so am I. I'm still working on accepting that I could lose him one day. He's got so much more to deal with. Whole civilizations can fall under his command, if he's not right every damn time._

_And hasn't he done enough? Isn't he due some peace if he wants it?_

His door chimed. He sighed and turned off his data screen. "Come in."

Uhura smiled at him when the door opened. "Got some time?"

"For you? Always!"

Uhura held out her arms as the door closed behind her, and he stood to hug her back. The top of her head just came to his nose, and it always astounded him that she was such a huge force in a small body. She hugged him fiercely, reminding McCoy that Jim wasn't the only one to have seen him die.

"Damn it, Len? Why are you so hard to keep safe?" she asked into his neck.

"Because I'm slow, awkward and a shit fighter who's always in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

She laughed, then hugged him tighter. They both swayed with it.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Not your fault. I just seem to adopt crazy men who need a sane woman in their lives. Looks like for you two, that's going to be me."

McCoy laughed. "Darlin' you're the sanest one on this whole ship." He released her and held her shoulders and gave her a crooked smile. "I'm still sorry. I didn't have much time to say goodbye, when it happened."

"I know," she admitted.

"C'mon, sit down. I've got time to talk. You need anything?"

Uhura rounded his desk and headed toward the cabinets in the back of the room, over the pull-out cot. "Coffee. I've had lunch. I'll fix it myself. You make _hospital_ coffee."

McCoy winced as he sat down. "Jim doesn't complain."

"Jim's your husband. He knows how to pick his battles," she said with a smile. "Want one?"

"No, I'm fine."

She made her coffee and sat down across from him. He gave her a minute to take a sip and relax.

"Will made it back to her people all right," McCoy told her. "They don't have any records of her, but believe they know her family from her DNA scan. She was probably born in space. She was pretty excited to go home, from what M'Benga told me. I think when the accident happened, she was too young to really remember her people. She'll be having to start from scratch, I think. No telling what kind of life Trelane gave her. But she's a smart one. She'll catch up soon."

"I'm glad," Uhura smiled. "She was a good kid. I'm glad she's got a home and a people to go to."

"Oh, and there's something else." McCoy reached for a sealed container on his desk. He took off the top and held it out to her. "Take a small taste."

He could tell by her expression that she had an idea of what he wanted her to sample. She broke off a small piece of what looked like a dried, green weed-like material and tasted it.

"It tastes like the food on the planet," she said around a grimace.

"It's the main food source for the Symmetrillions," McCoy said. "I had one of the ships beam me up a sample. My theory is that when Will's ship crashed, and her family died, Trelane used this as the basis for all the food in his game worlds. Will could go forever on just this stuff. The Klingons for quite a few years. And Spock for less than a year. But we humans would have been begun suffering from starvation in a few days. Didn't do us any harm, but we were on a definite time limit there.”

"So, others playing the game could have died that way?" Uhura shook her head sadly. "And Trelane wouldn't have understood why his players might have died off. Will was fine, and he probably doesn't eat."

McCoy nodded. "Jim got you out of there before you would have started feeling it. What ever games Trelane had planned between us and the Klingons wasn't going to be very exciting with us starving to death."

There was something nagging at him. He figured he'd better come out with it.

"Nyota? If I ever have to say goodbye again," McCoy began with a quiet shyness, "I want you to know how much you mean to me. I _love_ you. You've always been a wonderful friend."

" _Love_ you too, Len," Uhura answered softly, a fond gentleness in her eyes. "It's good we say it out loud, at least once. That's pretty much what I came here to do. Life doesn't always give us time for goodbyes."

"No, it doesn't," McCoy said with a sigh. "Not even at the best of times."

"And speaking of dying?" Uhura looked at him questioningly.

"It's okay. Shoot."

She nodded, then looked concerned. "Were you scared?"

"No," McCoy said quickly. "I didn't have much blood flow to my brain at the time, but I pretty much knew it was a fatal wound while I was still at the door. Nothing more to do, so I wasn't scared of it. Mostly worried about Jim. Glad you and the others were there for him. I knew you would be. It just hurt to leave him."

"Did you see the rest of it, from wherever it was Trelane put you?"

"Afterwards? No," McCoy admitted. "Just the part where Trelane got spanked and taken home. I know, a big piece missing for me there. About how Jim reacted to it. He hasn't talked about it much. Just said that you all were there for him and let him know he was needed and loved. It's all that carried him along for a while."

Uhura nodded. "He did well, but he was devastated. We all were. But he had us to care for, so that's what he did. If you hadn't been here when we got back, though..." She shook her head. "I don't know. He may have shut down. He may have tried to find your body and never come back. And now? This morning he's still feeling... closed off to me. Guarded. Is he embarrassed, do you think? Of his crying when you died? That we saw him so vulnerable?"

"No," McCoy said, leaning on his desk toward her. "That's not it. It's been a hard year, for all of us. He's wondering if it's not time to move on."

Uhura nodded. "I wondered about that. I know that Ambassador Spock has hinted that he and his Kirk were at this job for many years. But... this Jim _isn't_ his Jim. We are who we are now. I can't blame Jim for thinking of moving on. I think everyone questions that once in a while. Even when things are slow. For some, especially when things are slow." She smiled. "I think Jim would have trouble with a sedate, safe life. At least, as he is now. I think age will mellow him a lot, and that time will come for him. But maybe I'm wrong. I certainly don't know him like you do."

"No. I agree with you. I just... don't know how to help him right now," McCoy admitted. "What to say or do, other than what I've already said and done."

"Give him time? Love him? Just... be there?"

"That usually seems to be the answer," McCoy admitted. "But I sometimes have trouble giving him time to work things out for himself. I _want_ to jump in and fix him. "

"I think I'm the same way, with Spock," Uhura said with a small grimace. "Sometimes I explain human things to him before he's caught on himself. When he would have, on his own. I jump in too fast."

"He _is_ a smart one." McCoy smiled. "Just don't ever tell him I said that. But it's why I'm glad he and Jim are close friends."

"Some of the crew do wonder why you're not jealous of the time, and the friendship, between them." Uhura took another sip, eyebrow raised in question.

"They wonder about _me,_ and not _you_ , being jealous?" McCoy asked with a laugh. "What does that say about me? But seriously, their friendship is good for both of them." McCoy shrugged. "We can't be _everything_ to each other, all the time. Neither of us wants that. And Spock is no threat to our relationship. No more than our friendship is a threat to Jim. 'Cause, as much as I love you, Darlin', I can't think of you in any romantic way."

Uhura chuckled. "Nor I, you. That's not a bad thing between _real_ friends."

They were both quiet for a moment, each with their thoughts.

"I'm going to leave him his space and give him his time," McCoy said in the comfortable silence. "Talk when he wants to talk. But we could be leaving."

"I know," Uhura said a bit sadly. "But it'll be nice to stop by Deneva once in a while to visit. And we can still talk about our guys behind their backs, through subspace."

"Absolutely," McCoy said, grinning. "Wouldn't miss that for the world."

Uhura glanced at the time and finished the last of her coffee. She got up to put the cup in the recycler. "I have to get back. Everyone is searching for any ship's markings and design features we can find on the debris, then comparing them to various databases of lost ships. We're hoping we can answer some questions. It'll be nice to have some answers, even if it's only for a few."

McCoy stood as she came by his desk. "Yeah, I should make some rounds, then head for the bridge."

She came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He leaned down for her kiss on his cheek.

" _Don't_ die again," she said sternly. "Ever."

"Do my best not to," he said, following her out the door. "At least, not until I'm at least a hundred, anyway. Someone has to stick around to take care of the kid, keep that burden off of you two."

 

***

Five Days Later

***

 

Jim gasped as he woke in shock in the dark room, his body trembling and his mind screaming his anguish.

 _A nightmare!_ he realized, recognizing the comforting sounds and dim lights flickering around their cabin. Bones, asleep next to him, was still alive and well.

_He didn’t stay dead. He came back. Trelane's parents gave him back. I didn't lose him forever._

He took a breath and tried to relax. He’d been afraid he’d have a nightmare or two afterwards. But he’d been so busy since the incident with the clean-up, cataloging and arranging the distribution of all the spaceship debris, that the first few nights had seen him falling exhausted into bed. Even the good news that Will's extended family had been found and she'd been taken home hadn't helped his restlessness. He’d _wanted_ to be exhausted, hoping that the memory of those very painful hours wouldn’t catch up with him.

He and Bones hadn't talked any more about his death, or them leaving Starfleet, even when they'd had time the last couple of evenings. Jim knew Bones was open to it, but Jim felt confused and pulled in so many directions that he didn't want to get back into either subject until he'd worked his true feelings out for himself.

And it hadn't helped that his interest in sex seemed to have disappeared. They were still affectionate, but Jim hadn't gotten an erection when they'd tried to make love the night before. Bones had backed off when Jim hadn't responded past the kissing stage, and they cuddled on the couch for a while with a holo-vid. Nor had Jim gotten one when he'd tried to jerk off in private this afternoon, afraid of his lack of response and desire at Bones's attentions. And that was something he hadn't had happen when he wasn't physically injured, like when he'd been burned and in recovery. That was normal. This wasn't.

_I don’t want to wake him up, but if I move to the living room then he’ll go back to doing the same thing when he has nightmares. Maybe his rain loop will help._

Jim rolled over and reached out to the controls on his nightstand, his adrenalin rush making his hand tremble. He started the rain loop. But he stopped, realizing that while Bones found the sounds soothing, he found they made the room sound lonely. Like those dreary, dark and rainy days stuck in a house he hated as a child. Jim thought for a moment and instead pulled up an audio file of the sounds of Terran birds. He looped it and lowered the volume.

_I know he’s been worried about how hard I’ve tried to keep myself busy these last couple of days. And that I haven’t been up for sex since we got back. Literally. Maybe he’s right, and I need to listen to my heart and make a decision. He should know, since I’ve put him in this position often enough. And if we stay, I'll do it again. He's been through so much already, worrying about me and the ship. Yet, he seems content with the idea of keeping on as before. To keep rolling those dice and taking those chances._

Jim lay there and listened for a while, remembering those mornings on Deneva, before and after their wedding. The memory of bird sounds just outside their window brought back those happy, excited feelings of life, love, and a new adventure for them both.

_Is it really time to quit? What do I want? What can I live with?_

When he did have some time yesterday, during a break when Bones was on duty, Jim had packed up his treasures.

He'd emptied the drawer, putting all of the items in a reinforced travel container.

Some were newer additions. There was the communicator Bones had lost in the wreck of Starbase 10. A small real-paper book, " _Classical Dance Steps for the Graceless_ ", that Bones had given him at the academy just before his test in his Deportment class. Bones had left it on his bed that morning, with the inscription " _Try not to break the instructor's toes. If you do damage, route them to me at the clinic. Maybe I can plead your case while they're under anaesthetic. Relax, and don't fuck it up. Bones_." It had made him laugh and realize he was angsty over the test for no good reason. Bones had been patient and had taught him well, squashed toes and all. He'd gotten through the class and gotten his "A". And now he had the braided bracelet he'd finally felt comfortable taking off of his wrist.

But the others were older. Things he'd placed safely in storage before he'd left home.

One was an old notebook grandpa Tiberius had given him to scribble in as a child, that had some of T.K.'s notes on a math problem he'd worked on. The man had lived for math and had a recognized talent for it. Another was one of Nana's old pot holders. Jim barely remembered her. When he was a child he'd taken the potholder from her house after her funeral and had smuggled it home because it smelled like her. He mostly remembered her as smelling like cookies in the oven.

There was a written note from Sam. Sam had taped it to their fridge door for when Jim had come home from school when he was ten or so. Sam had gone on a school trip for a few days, and it was a note telling Jim that he'd made Jim's meals for the next couple of days and he could only have _one_ of the candy bars for dessert every day. Jim had apparently tossed it on the counter and it had fallen between the counter and an appliance. Jim had found it by accident at sixteen, when moving the dead machine out for a new one. Jim had just found out from his Mom that Sam had contacted her, and was off-planet, after all that time when no one knew where he was. Jim had been pissed at Sam, but he'd kept the note anyway.

And in a secure pouch, a real-paper list in his father's handwriting that Jim had found in a box in their attic. George had listed some motorcycle parts he'd wanted to buy, their prices and shipping times, as well as a small stack of old paper magazines on how to keep them running.

Jim had packed them all carefully, along with other bits and pieces of his life.

 _They can't stay with me,_ he'd thought as he sealed them all up together. _It's not safe here. It never will be. Not really. I'll send them to Sam. He can keep them for me._

But the most important question was, did he put the box in the Starfleet mail for Deneva, or did he and Bones bring it to Deneva with all their other stuff, on one last trip home?

He thought about it for a long while; what he'd been through just days ago and what Bones had gone through in the recent past. What he'd have to ask his crew to go through in the future. How they all could suffer. What they all could lose in their lives. In a couple of days, it'd be the one year anniversary of the day Bones had proposed. Bones had died, and they hadn't even made it to their first wedding anniversary. Not even a year. They wouldn't have even had that much time together.

Yet, they'd all come out here because they all wanted to make a difference, have adventures and see incredible things. He tried to weigh it against the good they'd been able to do. He was reminded of all the beings they'd met, those they'd helped along the way. If the young couple now ruling both Gemaris and Dachlydia kept to their promise, little King Leonard would be hatching in only another twenty days or so. A new ruler for two re-joined worlds. Someday the cloud city might have equality for all its people. And he remembered the time almost exactly a year ago, when a little Yaderan girl and her friend Becca gave them a glimpse of a new intelligence hidden in a nebula.

And he remembered what Bones had told him earlier. _"The crew has all **chosen** to be out here. If not with you leading them, then someone else. If they don't like you, they can jump ship at any time. If you leave, then maybe the next Captain won't be the person they need them to be. **Everyone** has a choice here, Jim. It's not **all** on your shoulders, even if sometimes it feels like it is."_

But living the safe life wouldn't last long if they chose a planet to settle on that was doomed to die. Vulcan's ghost haunted the whole of the Federation and its people. No one could have seen that coming. Someone had to keep an eye out for those who'd love to extend that fate to every planet in the Federation. Destroy them, or worse. Enslave them. Thinking of Deneva and the family he and Bones could lose made him shiver.

As the night ticked on, minute by minute, he finally had to admit he’d really known all along what the answer was. Whether it was the smart and sane choice or the selfish one, he didn’t know. He only knew that for right now, it was what he really _needed_ to do.

In the warm darkness of early morning, Bones stirred and rolled over behind him. Jim felt the soft touch of fingertips at his back. They gently traced a warm path down his spine.

Decision made, he could relax now and pay attention to his body again. It responded to Bones's touch like it had the first time between them. Desire and need awakened in him, demanding attention. Bones placed his palm on Jim's side. Long, talented fingers followed the curve of his ribs, silently asking him if he wanted _more_.

 ** _Yes._** _Both to the loving and to **this** life. I want **more**. _

He turned onto his back and pulled Bones toward him for a kiss. Bones's hand slid hotly across and down his chest and torso, finding his erection. Bones stroked it gently, humming happily into Jim's mouth.

Tomorrow, they’d talk about a vacation and Jim would ship his treasures home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I want thank my beta, who knows who they are ; ) , for all the wonderful help. They were there to help me sort out a lot of tangled theories in my head, and did the grunt work of checking this story out for me. Any mistakes are all my own!
> 
> This is a strange mix of the TOS episodes "Shore Leave" and "The Squire of Gothos", where I took the bits I was interested in. It wasn't until later I realized I'd seen an episode of ST:TNG called "Qpid" that had the same basic theme of Robin Hood and the Q. I'd seen it in 1991, but probably not since. Apparently something stuck with me, as I suddenly remembered Worf's declaration that he was NOT a Merry Man. : ) I need a t-shirt with that on it. I haven't gone back to watch "Qpid" again, as I wanted this to just go where it wanted to. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy.


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